


Reason to Believe

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-16
Updated: 2003-11-16
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 47,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: The phone rings at night and Justin hurries to the hospital. There he gets news he never expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Pittsburgh, June 2003

 

The ringing of the phone woke me up in the middle of the night, my limbs entwined with Ethan’s, I could feel his breath tickling the sensitive skin of my neck, looking peaceful and happy and completely relaxed in his sleep. And no, I was not going to think of another who’d slept in equal peace night after night at my side. No way I was going to think of him. 

 

The phone rang again and with utmost care I tried to disentangle myself from my lover without disturbing him. I knew he had a big audition the next day and needed to be at his best. He didn’t think I’d notice, but I still saw that he was cutting down on his food, that his janitor was giving him those looks – as if he was going to evict him the very next day. 

 

So I silently slipped from the bed, and reached for my cell, pressing the button. “Yeah,” I whispered. 

 

“It’s Debbie.”

 

I was stunned for a moment. And then my heart started to jackhammer in my chest, my stomach turning upside down. “D-deb?” I stuttered. 

 

“Listen, I … I know it’s late, but I’m here in the hospital and –“

 

“– H-hospital,” I stammered, running an unsteady hand through my disheveled hair. “Wha..”

 

“I wasn’t sure if I should call, but then I thought … It’s Brian...”

 

It’s Brian. 

 

Three little words, okay, two words and a ’. Yet, I felt the ground slipping from underneath my feet. 

 

“… found him in his loft.”

 

“What?” I asked, half of the sentence not registering in my mind. 

 

She sighed at the other end, and I could hear the tremble in that one sound. Jesus! “I said, Michael found him a few hours ago in his loft.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

“General,” Deb replied. 

 

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

 

With that I shut down the phone and grabbed the clothes I had thrown all over the apartment last night, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. Brian was at the hospital and from the sound of Debbie’s voice it wasn’t like the time when my Dad rammed Brian’s jeep. This time it seemed serious. 

 

Cursing myself for not asking what had happened, I stopped for a moment before zipping my pants, trying to understand what I was doing. Running to the hospital in the middle of the night – just because Debbie had called. Brian and I weren’t together anymore – there was no reason to call, and yet she had. And just like that, my hands started to tremble again. With fumbling fingers I finished my clothing, then scribbled a note for Ethan I hoped he’d be able to read and I was out of the door.

 

*

 

Racing down the hallway of the second floor I saw them before any of them noticed me. There was Debbie, holding a cup of coffee, Lindsay was there, too, and Michael – and my stomach dropped right through the bottom.

 

I came to a halt before them, panting heavily, looking at them with questions in my eyes. “W-where is he?” I managed to ask over the pounding of my heart. 

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Michael surged to his feet, his eyes shooting daggers at me. 

“I … Deb said that Brian … that he was here,” I replied, not really surprised at his anger. I could only guess how much he must hate me after what I supposedly did to his best friend. 

 

He turned and got right into his mother’s face, “You called him? What the fuck were you thinking? He’s the reason Brian is here in the first place.”

 

“Michael,” Lindsay rose to her feet, “That’s not true.” She gave me an apologetic smile, or at least she tried, but it instantly slipped, replaced by a deep concern that made me quiver. 

 

“What?” I demanded. “What’s wrong with him?”

 

Michael whirled around again, “You want to know what’s wrong with him? Well, listen up, you little piece of shit. He tried to kill himself!” he shouted the last words right in my face, and I reeled back as if he’d hit me.

 

Killed, himself? 

 

I shook my head, too dumbfounded by the news to digest the words. 

 

“B-brian tried...he tried to kill himself?” Even as I said the words they still rang wrong in my ears. This simply couldn’t be true. Brian would never –

 

“It’s true,” I felt Lindsay’s hand on my shoulder, her eyes sad and full of tears. “Michael found him a few hours ago.”

 

“N-no,” I took a step back. Then another. This couldn’t be happening. Brian was strong. He didn’t do things like that. “You’re lying.”

 

“We’re not lying,” Michael glared at me. “I should’ve known something like this was going to happen. After the way he acted since the party.” He shook his head, “After the way you just turned your back on him – left with your new boy-toy.”

 

“Now, stop that,” Debbie interfered. “It’s not Justin’s fault. Brian’s acted like a shit. Don’t try to turn him into some sort of saint. They both did things that shouldn’t have happened. This is nobody’s fault.”

 

“The hell it is,” her son shouted, giving me another of that ‘I-wish-you’d-drop-dead’ looks he seems to have perfected just for my sake. “While you were living your pretty little life with your new hubby, Brian got wasted. I never saw him drinking like that. I had to get him home more times I can count during the last weeks.”

 

“He always got drunk,” I reminded him, refusing to take the blame for this. I wouldn’t have turned my back on him if he’d given me at least one reason to stay. Instead he got nastier, even told me he would never love me. 

 

“Not like this. Not even when you were in the hospital did he ever drink like this. And I think his drug abuse shot right through the roof. It’s a miracle he didn’t get addicted.” Michael turned away from me, but not without giving me another disgusted snort, letting me know that he didn’t care if Brian was behaving shitty or that he more or less pushed me away ever since we met. He was determined to make out the guilty part and as far as he was concerned he’d already found it. 

 

“Michael, that’s not fair,” Lindsay – always the peacemaker – tried to interfere again. “Plus, this is not the place to discuss it. We should try to find out how he’s doing instead of ripping each others throats out.”

 

“I don’t want him to stay,” Michael tossed over his shoulder. “He’s got no right to be here.”

 

“Michael, shut up,” Debbie snapped, then gave me a wobbly smile. “Of course you’re staying, Sunshine. I know how much he still means to you.”

 

I wanted to smile at her, wanted to tell her how grateful I was for her support, but my mouth was too dry, and I felt too sick to manage even a weak twitch of my lips. I still tried to digest the fact that Brian Kinney had attempted suicide. The thought simply didn’t want to settle in my mind. I couldn’t wrap myself around the idea of Brian Kinney trying to deliberately end his life. It just didn’t fit. Didn’t fit the man I knew. He never cared enough for anything to let himself be bothered that way. 

 

But then I looked at Debbie and Michael and Lindsay and thought for the first time that I could have been wrong. Maybe Brian was just too good to let anyone see what was going on inside of him. I remember when he passed over his parental rights to Mel. When I asked him about it, he simply brushed it off as if it wasn’t a big deal. But I also remember finding him sitting on his sofa, eyes vacant, alternately staring into a glass of Whiskey and a picture of he and Gus.

 

I suddenly didn’t know what to think anymore. 

 

“What did the doctor say?” I finally asked, looking at Deb, knowing that Michael wouldn’t give me any information.

 

“They pumped out his stomach,” she replied, sniffling slightly, “But the doctor told us that the combination of drugs, alcohol and the pills he must have taken could cause problems.” She gave me another wobbly smile, the compassion in her eyes almost undoing me. 

 

I blinked rapidly, before wrapping my arms around myself, trying to hold it together. “Does … does that mean,” my voice sounded strange even to me, high-pitched and like that of another person, “Is he going to die?” I couldn’t stop the sob that tore from my lips with the last word, my gut clenching to an enormous knot right inside of me. It was hard enough to think of Brian being so desperate that he would contemplate killing himself, to think he could actually die was simply too much to bear. 

 

“We don’t know, Sunshine.”

 

Right that moment the doors opened, revealing Ben, his face a mask of worry. “Michael,” he called, then wrapped his lover in his arms. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your message earlier. I was stuck with this new project and didn’t check my voice-mail.”

 

“It’s okay,” Michael sobbed into his chest. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

 

“Are you here for Mr. Kinney?” a voice intoned. 

 

We all whirled around, Michael slowly entangled himself from his lover, and saw a woman standing in front of us. She wore scrubs, the front still dirty with dried blood and vomit, her eyes tired, deep shadows lying underneath.

 

Debbie stepped forward, “Yes, we’re,” she hesitated only for a moment, “his family.”

 

Giving us a look, the woman sighed, “Alright. I’m Doctor Kendall. I’ve been treating Mr. Kinney for the past three hours. It was a close call for a while, but he finally pulled through.”

 

Collective sighs of relief were to be heard in the aftermath of her statement. But we all tensed again, when the woman continued.

 

“There is, however, a problem.”

 

“A p-problem?” I hadn’t even realized I had uttered the question before they all turned and looked at me. I gulped, arms still tightly wrapped around my middle. 

 

“Yes,” she nodded, “As a reaction to the drug overload, Mr. Kinney is suffering from selective memory loss.”

 

“Memory loss?” Michael’s face lost all color. “What does that mean?” Ben wrapped an arm around his shoulder and his lover leaned into him gratefully. 

 

“It means,” she explained, “That Mr. Kinney only remembers parts of his past. Others,” she paused, sighed again tiredly, “are lost. If he’ll ever regain any of this memory is not up to us. He might remember in a few days – weeks. Or it might be lost forever.”

 

“You mean he might never remember what happened?” Lindsay wiped her cheeks. 

 

“Yes,” Doctor Kendall nodded. 

 

“And what are we going to do now?” Michael wanted to know. “Do we tell him?”

 

“Not under any circumstances. At least not right now,” she warned us, holding our eyes for a moment, as if she wanted to be sure we understood. “Overloading him with information could cause severe problems, the worst being a relapse. I will make an appointment with his therapist for you first thing in the morning. Dr. Prentiss will be able to tell you more. You can, however, answer the questions he’s undoubtedly going to ask, at least up to a certain point. But Dr. Prentiss will explain everything.”

 

“His therapist. Brian doesn’t do therapists,” Michael said defiantly. 

 

“Now he will,” Doctor Kendall’s voice was firm. “He tried to kill himself. It’s our strict policy that patients in this situation see a therapist at least once.” 

 

“And what does he remember?” Ben asked. “You said he had selective memory loss.”

 

Giving Michael’s lover an appreciative glance, the doctor explained, “He remembers his name, he also insists he has a son.” She gave us an expectant look.

 

“Yes, yes, he has,” Lindsay smiled slightly. “His name is Gus. He’s almost two.”

 

Doctor Kendall nodded again, “Fine. He has also repeatedly asked for someone named Justin.” Again she raised her brows, waiting for us to react. 

 

I had to clear my throat, before I could speak, “I, uh…I’m Justin.” I was hardly able to believe he was remembering me. After what had happened I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d forgotten all about it. 

 

“Then I want you to come with me. He’s been very agitated for a while and adamant to see you.” She grinned a little, “He can be very demanding.”

 

Lindsay chuckled, “You have no idea,” she said, relief heavy in her expression. She and Deb looked at each other for a moment before they hugged, not bothering to hide their tears. 

 

“I want to see him, too,” Michael spoke up, stepping away from Ben. “He’s my best friend. He’s going to need me.”

 

Doctor Kendall’s brow came up, “And you would be?” 

 

“Sorry,” he gave her an apologetic smile, “I’m Michael Novotny.”

 

“Michael Novotny,” she seemed to muse over the name for a moment, then shook her head, “No, he didn’t mention you. Sorry. But he insisted on seeing you,” she looked back at me. “Would you come, please?”

 

“Go on, Sunshine,” Debbie smiled. “And tell him we all love him.”

 

Finally able to smile back, I replied, “I will. And Deb – thanks for calling me.”

 

*

 

I hesitated in the doorway for a moment, shocked by the sight of Brian lying in a hospital bed, tubes attached to his arm, his usually healthy skin dulled to an almost gray pallor, his eyes sunk deeply in his face, the rosy shade gone from his lips that were almost white now. 

 

Giving me an encouraging gaze, Doctor Kendall nudged me forward and at the same moment Brian’s eyes opened. 

 

Gulping, I slowly approached his bed, stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my pants. “Hey,” I managed finally, but failed at another attempt to smile. 

 

He cleared his throat, and tried to rise his upper body, but was too weak to manage. His lips turned slightly upward, “Hey.” His voice was hoarse and low. “Justin.” He said my name as if he was glad there was finally something he recognized. “You are Justin, right?”

 

The uncertainty in his voice almost broke my heart. I had seen Brian Kinney in different moods over the years. Disappointed. Angry. Jealous. Hateful. Spiteful. Mean. Gentle. But not like this. Never like someone who didn’t know who he was anymore. 

 

Taking the last steps to his bed, I blinked several times. “Yes … yes, I’m Justin.”

 

He gave me a relieved smile at that. “That’s good,” he nodded, more to himself, then winced and touched his forehead. “I’ve got a fucking headache,” he said as a matter of explanation. “They told me I tried to kill myself.” He winced again, “Want advice? Never try it – hurts too fucking much.”

 

I almost smiled at that – at the small glimpse of the old Brian coming through. Maybe there was hope that his memory would come back one day. “Why …,” I paused for a moment, not sure if it was the right time to ask, but he beat me to it.

 

“I don’t know,” he once again rubbed his forehead, “I c-can’t … remember.” His voice dropped almost to a whisper at the end. “I can’t remember a lot of things.”

 

Not able to stand this any longer, not able to watch the pain in his eyes, I pulled my hands from the pockets and reached for one of his. Careful of the tubes sticking out from the back, I held it gently. “Brian, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

 

He looked at me for a long moment, “Do I have a son?”

 

“Yeah,” I smiled at him. “Gus. He’s almost two. He’s great. He’s like, the smartest kid I know.”

 

“Am I …,” he frowned, “Am I gay?”

 

I had to laugh – yes, I know it probably was the wrong moment, but maybe hysterics just got the best of me, who knows. “As gay as they come.”

 

He let out a breath of relief, but before I could ask him why he seemed glad he frowned again, “How come I have a son then?”

 

“You once told me you jerked off in a cup,” I told him, smiling at the memory. I’ll never forget my first shower with him.

 

He wrinkled his nose in disgust, “Oh, gross.”

 

“That’s what I said when you told me,” I replied, stroking the smooth skin of his hand. He’s got the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen. 

 

He grinned at that, “Well, at least something good came out of it.” When he saw the question in my eyes, he added, “You said my son was great.”

 

“Oh, right,” I grinned back. “He is. He’s walking. And he’s talking, too. At least I think he is. I…” didn’t see him for a while I was about to say, but stopped, not sure how much information to supply. He obviously didn’t remember our break up and right now I was glad. I didn’t even try to analyze the feeling, too happy about the fact that he was still alive. We might not be together anymore, but to think of a world without Brian in it was too horrible to contemplate. 

 

“They told me I had to talk to a fucking therapist,” he said out of the blue, once again letting the old Brian shine through.

 

And once again I had to grin, “Dr. Kendall told me. It’s hospital policy.”

 

“At least they’re going to release me afterwards,” he suddenly laced his fingers with mine, startling me. “So I’m allowed to go home. They didn’t want to let me go so early, but I assured them I was in good hands.” He looked at me and I felt my mouth go dry. 

 

“W-what?” 

 

Uncertainty flickered in his eyes, his fingers unlacing from mine, “I … I’m sorry, I … must have … I’m sorry.” He turned his head away. “Sorry,” he mumbled again.

 

“Brian?” Instantly afraid, I reached for his hand again, “Brian? Talk to me. Why are you sorry?”

 

Keeping his face averted, he blew out a long breath, “For assuming that … I thought I remembered … Us.”

 

“Us?” When he didn’t answer I squeezed his hand, “Brian, what about us?”

 

“I thought there was an us,” he said finally, quietly, pink crawling up his cheeks. “I thought I remembered living with you.”

 

“Oh,” I swallowed and I don’t know what happened that moment, but I suddenly knew there was only one answer I could give him. “You remember correctly. We live together. In your loft.” 

 

His head snapped around, “We do?” There was such hope in his voice, I wanted to weep. 

 

“Yes,” I nodded, pushing all thoughts of Ethan away. All I could think was that Brian obviously needed me. Needed me in a way he had never needed me before. And I was not going to deny my help. I didn’t try to understand why I jumped on the occasion, why this was so important to me, didn’t want to analyze my motives, I just reacted the way an inner voice told me. “We’ve been living together for a year now.” Inwardly I already started to organize my moving back into the loft – in a few hours. I just hoped his friends would help. I was never going to manage it on my own. 

 

He cleared his throat and I looked up, finding him watching me with the same uncertainty again. 

 

“What?” I asked, encouraging him with another squeeze of my hand. 

 

“I … uh … remember something else.”

 

“Well,” I gave him a smile, “tell me.”

 

“No, I …,” he shook his head, “It’s not important.”

 

“It obviously is for you,” I said, “Just tell me.”

 

“I remember,” he lowered his lids, kept his eyes on our entwined hands, “you telling me, you love me.”

 

I inhaled sharply, and his head instantly came up. When I failed to reply, he nodded, “Told you, it was a dumb idea.”

 

“No,” not thinking about my next move, I cupped his cheek and forced him to meet my eyes, “It’s okay. You just … you didn’t usually talk about feelings, you know. So you kind of surprised me.” 

 

Again, he lowered his lids, “So you … did tell me you love me?” 

 

“Yeah, on several occasions,” I confirmed, knowing that if he’d ask, I’d be able to recall every one of them. 

 

In a blink the uncertainty was gone from his eyes and was replaced by an expression of pure joy, something I’d never before seen in Brian. It took my breath away. 

 

He grinned, “Justin?”

 

“Hmmm.” I know; not very articulate, but it was all I could manage right now, still reeling from the shock of seeing him so open, so unveiled. Little did I know that his next words would turn my world upside down.

With the most beautiful smile, he pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed it. Then he looked up at me, “I love you, too.” 

 

“W-w-what?” I stammered.

 

But his only response was a sigh, before he closed his eyes and fell asleep, leaving me stunned and speechless and in the worst emotional dilemma I could imagine.


	2. Reason to Believe

So here I was, only hours after I’d left a sleeping Brian in the hospital, my mind still reeling from his last words. 

 

*I love you, too.*

 

He’d said it with such ease, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if he’d said it a thousand times before, when in reality he’d never even shown me that he might care. No, that’s not true, of course. He showed me he cared – in his very special Brian-way. It just wasn’t…enough, I suppose. I wanted more. I wanted the words, the flowers, the emotions, and he never gave them to me. And now, that he finally told me he loved me, I had no idea how to deal with it. 

 

I was with another man for Christ sake, and yet here I was, standing in front of Brian’s door, with the key he’d never taken back. My arms were full of stuff I’d collected from Ethan’s apartment, Ted, Emmett and Melanie behind me, holding equal amounts of clothes and art supplies. Thanks to the audition Ethan wasn’t at home – and I had to admit that I’d never been more relieved. I was so not looking forward to a confrontation in front of my friends. 

 

Ethan had left early, I remembered his audition was at eight, and so we had all the time we needed and were at Brian’s loft only a few minutes after nine. Brian’s appointment with the shrink was at ten and after that, he would be released to the tender loving care of his boyfriend – namely, ME. Only, I wasn’t his boyfriend anymore, but Brian didn’t know that and for whatever reason, I couldn’t destroy the trust I had seen in those hazel eyes. Even to the point of risking my relationship with Ethan. Because one thing I was sure of, Ethan was going to be pissed. More than just pissed, actually. 

 

He’s always felt as if he was in competition with Brian. I knew it from the start, and for a while I didn’t care. But right now I knew it could be something unpleasantly explosive. And I didn’t want to face it. I cared a lot for Ethan and the last thing I wanted was for him to get hurt. I didn’t want to lose him either. He was good for me. We laughed together, I was at ease around him, not always tiptoeing around or being careful not to step on his toes, not to say the right things, it was easy. With Ethan things were simple, we talked when we needed it, and we didn’t need to hide – or more importantly, he didn’t. It was such a relief after the last tense moments with Brian, that I was trying to hold onto it with both hands. 

 

“Here we are,” I announced as soon as I managed to open the door with my elbow. 

 

“Brian’s kingdom,” Emmett exclaimed, placing the boxes he was carrying on the ground. I’ve always wondered how this would look like without him in it.”

 

“And?” Ted put his stuff right beside Emmett’s and looked around. 

 

“Well, the asshole stench is certainly gone,” Melanie sniffed, placing the art supplies on the table. “I don’t even want to know how much money went into this. No wonder he was pissed when you forgot to set the alarm.”

 

“I thought he was gonna kill me,” I admitted with a laugh. “We need to get this all stored away before I have to meet him at noon,” I said, taking the first box and carrying it into his bedroom. Our bedroom, I reminded myself. It would do no good to slip as long as Brian didn’t remember anything. If, he was ever going to remember. 

 

Not trying to think of the possibility, I turned to see Mel, Emmett and Ted staring at a spot in the corner. My stomach lurched when I saw what it was. A bottle of Jim Beam was lying on the ground, an empty pill bottle beside it. This had to be the exact sport where Mikey found him. Feeling my knees go weak, I grabbed for a nearby chair, “Could you,” I looked at Mel, “just throw it away?”

 

“Sure,” she gave me a compassionate gaze. “I’ll do it right now.” 

 

“I still can’t believe he would do such a thing,” Emmett said with a sigh, then turned to give me a brilliant smile. “Anyways. Where do you want me to put your shoes?”

 

*

 

I remembered at the very last moment that I had promised to meet Ethan after his audition at eleven and so I was standing in front of the studio he told me he would be in, butterflies in my gut, sweat pooling between my shoulder-blades. 

 

He appeared only minutes after I had arrived, a big smile plastered on his face that widened the moment he saw me. Guilt washed over me, but I pushed it away. Brian needed me…I had nothing to feel guilty for. Of course I knew it was bullshit, but I still preferred to think that way. 

 

“Hey, baby,” he greeted me, slinging his arms around my body. I felt a kiss behind my left ear; something he loved to do and I held him for a moment before pulling away. 

 

Forgetting about the inevitable for a moment, I asked, “And?”

 

The smile he gave me almost split his face in two, “I was excellent as always. I simply swept them away.”

 

“Great,” I tried to sound as if I meant it, but inside all I could think was that I’d have to tell him now, that there was no way I could put it off any longer. He would go back to his apartment and know. 

 

And something must have shown on my face, because the smile suddenly vanished from his and he looked at me with concern. “Justin, are you okay? Did something happen at school?”

 

“No,” I shook my head, averting my eyes. “Can we … go somewhere? To talk?”

 

He grabbed my hand, “Just tell me. Are you … are you, sick?”

 

There was so much concern in his eyes and voice, I wanted to weep. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve to hear the words I needed to say, but I knew that I couldn’t avoid it. “Uhm….it’s… Brian tried to kill himself last night.” I swallowed hard after I’d said it, then after a moment of silence risked a glance at him.

 

He was staring at me, disbelief written all over his features. “This … is about Brian?”

 

And I don’t know what it was, if there was something in his voice, something he didn’t say, but I felt anger well up, hated that he made me feel defensive. “Yes, it’s about Brian,” I said, sharper than intended, “Didn’t you listen? He tried to commit suicide”

 

Ethan shook his head as if he needed to clear his mind, before he said, “And this concerns you, how ? The guy treated you like shit. I thought you were finally through with him.”

 

“It’s not that easy,” I began, but he cut me off.

 

“Or are you going to tell me you’re still in love with him?” 

 

I quickly looked away, not wanting him to read my thoughts in my eyes, “It’s more complicated than that.” 

 

“Complicated how?”

 

“He … he lost parts of his memory. He doesn’t remember … he thinks we’re still together.” He told me he loved me. And damn, ever since he’s said the words I can’t think of anything else. 

 

“How convenient.” 

 

My head came up with a snap at his words. “What … are you trying to tell me?” 

 

He shook his head again, laughing slightly, “God, this is so fucked. You leave him and now he’s conveniently forgotten a part of his past.”

 

Anger surged fast and hot, “He’s not faking this,” I hissed, “I know him enough to see it’s for real. You haven’t seen how confused he was, how lost.” And he told me he loved me. He’d never have done that without the memory loss. But I couldn’t say that to Ethan. Didn’t want to hurt him even more.

 

He took a deep breath, “So, what does it mean. Are you going back to him?” When I was quiet, he started to laugh, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I’m right, you’re going to move back. Is your stuff already in the loft? God,” he turned away, walked two steps away, then back. “Justin you’re such a fool. Don’t you know he’s only going to hurt you again? I love you. Does he love you, too?”

 

Yes, I wanted to shout. At least that’s what he said. Even though he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. “That’s not the point here,” I tried to defend myself.

 

“No,” Ethan agreed to my surprise. “It’s not. The point is, whom do you love? And from the look of things I’ve already got my fucking answer. Damn,” he hissed, started to pace again. “What do I have to say to make you change your mind?” he asked finally, running a hand through his hair, looking at me in exasperation. “There’s nothing, huh?”

 

“There is nothing you can say,” I agreed, “He’s counting on me. And I … I promised I’d be there for him. He … needs me.”

 

“And that’s important, right. God, you’re such a fucking little housewife.”

 

“That’s not fair,” I cried. “Why are you trying to turn me into the bad guy here? Besides,” I looked at my watch, “I don’t have time for this. I need to be at the hospital in half an hour. Can we talk about this, tonight? Or tomorrow, maybe.”

 

“No,” he said firmly. “We’re not going to talk about this tomorrow.” For the first time I noticed the unfamiliar steel in his eyes, the set of his jaw. “If you’re going to him now, you don’t need to come back.”

 

“What?” I cried, grabbing his arm, “You don’t mean that. Tell me you don’t mean that.”

 

Evading my touch, he shook his head, “I’m sorry, but that’s how I see it. If you choose him, that’s it. I’ve lived with his ghost for all these fucking months. I’m not going to play second fiddle to him again, be the secret nobody can know of. No fucking way.” He shouted the last words alternately combing his hands through his hair, making it stand up on ends. 

 

I wanted to touch it, wanted to touch him, hold onto him, to what he stood for. To the flowers, and the beautiful words and the easy going. But then I thought of Brian, thought about the way he looked in that hospital bed, lost and counting on me. And there was no way I was going to let him down. “I’m sorry,” I heard myself whisper. “I … care for you.”

 

“Yeah,” he snorted the word, then rubbed a hand over his face. “But we both know who you love.” Frowning slightly, he turned to go, but gave me a last look. “We could’ve made it work, Justin. If he hurts you again, if you’re where you’ve been a few months ago, maybe you’ll realize what you’ve thrown away today.”

 

I wanted to tell him that I already knew, that letting him go was the hardest thing I had done for a long time. But I did nothing. Instead I watched him walk away from me. Then I turned, waved for a cab and drove to the hospital.

 

*

 

Brian was fully dressed when I walked into his room half an hour later, and there was someone with him, a woman dressed casually in slacks and a blouse, her dark hair pulled into a loose knot. Her eyes were sharp and seemed to see everything and she smiled when she saw me enter. “You have to be Justin,” she said, holding out her hand. “We were just talking about you. I’m Karen Dawson.”

 

“She’s the shrink,” Brian explained from his spot on the bed. He was simply sitting there, but the tubes were fortunately gone from his arms. Also, his face looked healthier already. His voice softened, “Hey,” he greeted me. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

 

I gave him what I hoped was a genuine smile, “I had something to do first,” I told him. 

 

He frowned at me for a moment, “Everything okay?”

 

A little startled by his insight I caught myself in time, “Yeah, I’m fine.” I turned to Dr. Dawson, “So what’s the verdict? Is he allowed to leave?”

 

“He is,” she smiled again. “But we’ll meet again. We already made an appointment for next Friday.”

 

“You did?” I couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice. 

 

“I suppose he wasn’t fond of shrinks before,” she said with a glance at Brian.

 

“That’s an understatement. But I think it’s great he’s going to see you again.” I ignored Brian’s grimace at my comment and walked over to sit beside him. “What did you tell her about me?”

 

I saw his tongue wander into his cheek before he said, “Oh, this and that. I ...,” he stopped, and I noticed he was gnawing his lower lips, something I’d never seen him do before. “I … uh … don’t remember a lot, actually. I wanted to ask you …,” he glanced at the therapist and when she nodded, he continued, “Did … we go to New York?”

 

For a moment I didn’t know what he was talking about, then I remembered. “Yes, well, actually I went to New York. Stole you credit card. You came after me.”

 

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, blushed. I’ve never seen him blush before, but I felt my heart swell at the sight. “I remember us being … in a hotel room.” 

 

I couldn’t prevent blushing as well. “Uh … yeah.” 

 

He grinned, “It was hot.”

 

“Yeah,” I agreed, picturing us in the room, being so hot for each other – it was one of the most intense fucks we’d ever had. 

 

“Okay, boys,” Dr. Dawson stood. “See you Friday, Brian. And it was nice meeting you,” she smiled at me. “Call me Karen.”

 

“I will, thanks,” I replied. “Is there anything I need to know?”

 

“Not really,” she looked at Brian. “Just take it easy. He needs to remember in his own speed. Don’t tell him too much. Nothing he doesn’t want to know. And if there’s a problem,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a card, scribbled something on it, “That’s the number of my pager. This way you can reach me any time.” With a last smile she was gone.

 

“I thought a Dr. Prentiss was going to see you?” I stood up and walked over to the window. Outside the sun was shining and I thought of Ethan, wondered what he was doing right now. Probably playing his violin, trying to fight the pain. A pain I had caused.

 

“He had another patient to see. But I’m glad it’s Karen. She’s his assistant. I think she isn’t that bad.”

 

Pulling myself from my maudlin thoughts, I turned to look at him, “She seems nice. She didn’t make a drama out of what has happened.”

 

I saw him drop his gaze to his hands and frowned, “Brian?”

 

He slightly shook his head but didn’t look up, “I have no idea what happened,” he said after a moment. “I can’t remember a single thing. They told me I tried to kill myself, but it’s … as if it’s happened to a stranger. You probably can’t understand that.”

 

Oh I can, I wanted to tell him. I still didn’t remember the prom, only the little bit about Chris Hobbs coming after me with a bat. “I think I can,” was all I replied. “It must be … scary.”

 

“Feels weird, yeah,” he admitted, then smiled slightly. “But now that you’re here, it’ll be okay.”

 

Gulping down another wave of guilt, and at the same time floored by the trust he had in me, I had to clear my throat before I could say anything. “So, do you have everything?” When he looked at me questioningly, I pointed at the door, “You’re allowed to leave. Or do you want to stay?”

 

He was on his feet in a flash, “Let’s go.” But at the door he stopped, uncertainty once again written all over his face, “Where are we going?” 

 

Trying to give him a reassuring smile, I slowly reached out and took his hand, startled when his fingers closed around mine in a crushing grip, “To your loft. It’s great. You’ll like it.”

 

After a moment he nodded and followed my lead like a small kid. When we reached the exit I looked around for his jeep and was glad to see it in the second row, Michael standing beside it. If it was for me I would’ve opted for another one to drive us, not wanting to be exposed to his hostility for the whole ten minutes this would take us, but then I reminded myself that he was Brian’s best friend, and that involving him would still be better than to push his anger and jealousy. Plus, if I was completely honest with myself I could understand why he didn’t like me very much right now. I thought about someone treating Daphne the way I had treated Brian and knew what my reaction would be. 

 

Michael smiled when he saw us coming, then frowned when his eyes flickered to our entwined hands. Well Michael, I thought, you will have to learn to deal with it, because for now it’s not going to change. 

 

“Hey,” I greeted him, then looked to my side where Brian had stopped and was gazing at Michael with an unreadable expression. 

 

“Hey,” Mikey replied, not sure what to do. For a moment I felt for him, his pain of seeing his best friend distant like this. 

 

“You’re Michael,” Brian said finally, nodding more to himself. “We went to high school together.”

 

I could see what it cost the other man to keep his smile in place, “Yeah, we did. Hey,” he reached out to touch Brian, but pulled his hand back when the taller man flinched. “You remembered.”

 

“Seems so,” Brian looked at the jeep. “That your car?” 

 

“No,” I told him, pulling him to the left side, “It’s yours.”

 

“Mine?” He stopped, frowned. “I drive a jeep?”

 

“Yeah,” Michael looked at him when we all climbed in, with me sitting in the back. “You love that car. It’s your baby.”

 

“That’s bullshit,” Brian shook his head, “Nobody loves a car. It’s dead. Why would anyone love his car?” Shaking his head again, he leaned back and closed his eyes, while Michael and I exchanged a look through the rearview mirror, silently sharing our thoughts. Brian *had* loved this car, had treated it like his fucking kid. But now he didn’t seem to care anymore. What the fuck did that mean?

 

We were silent on our drive to the loft, Brian keeping his eyes closed, Michael and I hanging on our own thoughts. There was no reason to talk. Besides whatever Michael and I would talk about it was certainly nothing we could do in front of Brian. 

 

The jeep finally stopped, and after turning off the engine, Michael turned his head, “Brian,” he said softly. “We’re here.”

 

A pair of hazel eyes popped open, looking at us sleepily for a moment, before snapping to full alert. “Oh, thanks.” He gave the other man a noncommittal smile, then climbed from the car, waiting for me to do the same. “Where is it?” 

 

I nodded at the door, “It’s here. You’re on the top floor. Your loft’s a fucking palace.”

 

“Our loft,” he corrected me instantly, a strange look in his eyes. “It’s our loft,” he repeated as if to clarify.

“Of course. Our loft,” I hastened to confirm, my eyes flickering to Michael who was hovering in the background, ready to interfere if I failed to do the right thing.

 

“You want me to come up, too?” he asked, daring me to disagree. 

 

I was about to answer, but Brian beat me to it. “Thanks for the offer, but I think Justin and I can manage. We’ll talk soon,” he added, giving Mikey a smile. “Are you a very good friend?”

 

“He’s the best,” I told him, relaxing slightly when I saw Michael features soften. “He’s always been there for you.”

 

“We’ll talk,” Brian repeated, then started to walk towards the door. 

 

Michael looked at his back, then at me, “Call if there’s a problem.”

 

“I will.” He turned and I called out to him. “Michael?” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Thanks for …”

 

He slightly shook his head, “I’m not doing this for you.”

 

“I know,” I replied. Did he really think he needed to remind me? “Nevertheless, thanks.”

 

He shrugged, “What about your fiddler? How’s he going to fit into the picture?”

 

The now familiar stab of pain went through me, but once again I pushed it away. “He’s not.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“We broke up. Just before I came to the hospital.” And I still wanted to scream at the pain I had seen in Ethan’s eyes. I wanted to go to him, hold him, but knew it wasn’t an option. He wouldn’t stay with me if I stayed with Brian. And I had run out of options. 

 

“Didn’t want to play second best, again, huh?”

 

“No,” I confirmed, chuckling sadly. “He thinks I’m still in love with Brian.”

 

Something flickered to the older man’s eyes. “And….are you?”

 

“Loving him wasn’t the problem,” I replied, evading a direct answer. I wasn’t going to tell Michael about my feelings. And certainly not on the street with Brian waiting for me.

 

Michael looked at me for a long moment and then the first genuine smile appeared on his mouth, “Yes, I know. He really treated you like shit. We were all trying to understand why you put up with it.”

 

“And betting how long it was gonna last?” I asked without humor.

 

He seemed properly scandalized. “Did not.”

 

“Did, too. But I don’t blame you. I was wondering about it myself.” I looked over my shoulder, saw Brian waiting. “Seems I’m coming full circle now. I have to go.”

“Yeah,” Michael nodded. “I’ll leave you the car,” he laughed, “even if he doesn’t like it anymore.”

 

“Thanks,” I smiled, glad that the anger was finally gone from his eyes. “And I’ll call if we need anything.”

 

“Do that.” 

 

With that he turned away and I watched him for a moment as he walked down the street, his shoulders hunched against the wind that was starting to increase. Then blowing out a long breath, I walked towards Brian, and a future never more uncertain.


	3. Reason to Believe

Brian stared at the door to his apartment for a moment before turning to me. “I live here?” The question was so incredulous I was tempted to smile. I didn’t – because honestly, there really wasn’t a reason to. It wasn’t as if Brian was doing this because the situation was so funny. 

 

So instead of smiling, I nodded, “Yeah. It’s your loft.” With that I opened the door and rolled it aside, then waited for him to step in first. When he didn’t show any intention of doing that, I went ahead. “Well, come in. It’s yours.”

 

“Ours,” he muttered, then slowly followed. 

 

“Excuse me?” I wasn’t sure what his mumbling was about.

 

“You keep saying it’s mine. But we’re a couple, right?”

A couple? Gulp. I felt my heart hammer. For months and months I had dreamt about hearing those words. Hell, I would’ve been content with a lot less – and now this! “Uh… yeah,” I managed, quickly turning away so he wouldn’t see the confusion that had to show in my eyes. Fuck! How was I supposed to deal with this new Brian? It was as if I didn’t know him at all.

 

“That means it’s ours,” he insisted and followed me inside.

 

Placing the keys on the counter I walked to the fridge, “Do you want something to drink?” I asked over my shoulder, and pulled the door open – only to freeze on the spot, hardly able to believe my eyes. It had been months since I moved out of the loft and yet there was all my favorite stuff. Even the kind of orange juice I preferred. Had Michael…? But Michael wouldn’t know about my favorites, wouldn’t care. So what the hell did it mean?

 

“Wow!”

 

Startled by the word I looked at Brian. He stood in the middle of the room, his eyes taking in his surroundings. “Pretty impressive, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed, then surprised me again by adding, “But also … kind of dead. You’re sure this is my … I mean our place?”

 

“Of course I’m sure,” I walked over to him, not sure what to think of his comment. “Why?”

 

“I mean … it’s nice, yeah, but … there’s … nothing. No life. And who would want to live with white furniture? Didn’t you say my son was almost two? This has to be a mine-field for him.”

 

This time I couldn’t suppress the smile. “You used to love this loft. I think you were very proud of it.”

 

“Unfuckingbelievable,” he replied, making me chuckle. From time to time the old Brian just found his way through. “What’s up there?” He nodded towards the stairs. 

 

“The bedroom.” 

 

He was already walking towards it – then, suddenly, stopped. “Blue lights?”

 

“Yeah.” Seeing the look in his eyes, I held up my hands. “I had nothing to do with that. It was there before I came.”

 

He shook his head, chuckled, “Kind of kinky, don’t you think?”

 

“No,” I looked at him, “I … always liked it. It’s soothing – somehow.”

 

He shrugged at that, then walked over to his closet, pulling it open. “Jesus!” he exclaimed, flipping through his wardrobe, staring at the labels in amazement. “Do I wear anything besides designer-stuff?”

 

“Not that I know of,” I told him, grinning. “You’re a total label-queen. But I don’t mind. You look great in Armani.”

“I do, huh?” 

 

God, I wanted to kiss him for the way he was looking at me that very moment. He was almost embarrassed by my compliment, something the old Brian would’ve taken, with his very own tongue-in-cheek expression. 

 

“Shit, look at this shower,” he stood in the bathroom, glanced at me over his shoulder. “I remember being in there, with you.” His cheeks colored, “We do shower together, right?”

 

“Yes, we do.” I winked at him, and just couldn’t help myself to add, “And more.”

 

At that he coughed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’d like some juice now, if there’s any.”

 

I laughed, wanting to hug him in the worst way, and felt my knees go weak. Without even noticing I was falling in love with him all over again. 

 

*

 

I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’d prefer later. After forcing him to eat a sandwich I managed to get Brian to lay down and rest for a while, when the bell buzzed. 

 

“Yes?” I asked, determined not to let anyone disturb Brian’s precious hours of sleep. 

 

“It’s me.”

 

Mom. 

 

Shit. Holy fucking shit.

 

Glancing back at the bed, I assured myself that Brian was still soundly asleep, before I replied, “I’ll be down in a minute.” No way was I going to let her come up. Brian was never one of her favorite people and I could only guess why she’d come. All through the last months she never stopped ‘ohhh-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’ about the happy relationship I’d finally found with Ethan, how much better he was for me than Brian. And from the sound of her voice she’d just found out that her dream had dissolved into thin air. 

 

I saw her standing in front of the door, her eyes on the street, but from the stiff set of her shoulders I knew she was angry before she turned around. 

 

“Mom,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual. No way I was going to tell her what watching Ethan walk away had cost me. I’d never hear the end of it if I did. “What a surprise.”

 

“You really think so,” she snapped not bothering with pleasantries. Uh-Oh, I thought. 

 

And of course she tore right into me, “Justin, what is the matter with you. Are you crazy?”

 

“Mom-“ 

 

“I tried to call you. But instead I got Ethan on the phone. He told me in no uncertain terms that you two broke up,” she paused, her eyes darkening – a sure sign of rising anger. “Because you moved back in with Brian.” She shook her head, “What on earth were you thinking?”

 

“He needs me,” I replied simply, “Did Ethan mention why I went back?”

 

“He didn’t need to,” she accused, “We both know only too well that you’re not rational where Brian is concerned.” A trembling hand combed through her hair, “God, and I thought you were finally through with him. What happened? You were so happy. Ethan and you … you were perfect for each other.”

 

And like that, something inside of me snapped. I knew it was not fair to say this, knew that Ethan was a lot more to me, but I simply couldn’t leave it like that. “Perfect for each other,” I echoed. “Mom, you’re so fucking blind, I can’t believe it. Ethan was … an escape. He gave me what Brian didn’t. I went to him because Brian wouldn’t give me picnics, or flowers, or make any romantic gestures. Not because I stopped loving him.” I shook my head, startled by the sudden insight that every word I was saying was nothing but the truth. “Ethan was – nice. I care for him – a great deal, actually, but he wasn’t Brian. He’s never going to be Brian.” And I realized that it was the real reason I had been able to watch him walk away. Had not called after him. 

 

I also realized that if Brian had walked, I wouldn’t have been able to stand it. But he never had. Instead I had done the walking, had left him standing in the middle of the dance floor, taking Ethan’s hand to never look back. 

 

I shook my head. No wonder Michael hated me for doing that to his best friend. 

 

“Justin.” She sighed, saying my name in the way she did when she had no way of understanding what went on in my head. Then she shook her own. “I … just,” she motioned at the door, “But why move back in with him. He’s not good for you.”

 

“Maybe.” I could give her that. I would not confirm her fears, but I thought a maybe was fair. “But he needs me. What Ethan didn’t tell you is that Brian tried to kill himself last night. And as a result he’s lost parts of his memory. He’s so …,” I had to blink back tears thinking of the man sleeping upstairs, “He’s so fucking lost and he thinks we’re together. I’m the one he trusts right now. And I can’t let him down.”

 

She was clearly shocked, “H-he tried to kill himself?”

 

“Yes,” I replied, my eyes firm, “I don’t know what happened, and he doesn’t either, because he doesn’t remember, but I’m not going to leave him. I … I want to be with him.”

 

My mother looked at me for a long moment, then nodded on a sigh, “I suppose I’ve always known. You were so determined to be with him. Even when you were in the hospital … you were working so hard, and the first thing you did when they released you was look for him.”

 

“I loved him,” I said simply, because no other words were necessary.

 

“I know,” she laughed slightly. “What does he remember?”

 

“Bits and pieces. Nobody knows exactly. I suppose only time will tell. But he’s … different. More open. He … he told me he loves me.” 

 

“Oh, Justin,” once again she shook her heard, at a loss for words.

 

“Mom–“

 

“–No,” she held up her hand, “It’s okay. Well, not okay, but … I know I can’t do anything. I know you long enough to see when you’re determined to do something.” She touched my arm, “Can I help you; in any way?”

 

“You could call Deb. Tell her that … they should wait a day or two before coming to see him. He’s … he needs time to adjust.” I could already see them storming into the loft, smothering Brian with concern and love. Not what he needed right now.

 

“I’ll do that,” Mom promised. “What about food? You have everything?”

 

“Michael stocked the fridge this morning, when he picked up the car. We’re good.” And I hoped we really would be. But I had no way of knowing. This new Brian was turning my world upside down. 

 

She squeezed my arm, “If there’s anything…”

 

“I’ll call. I need to go up now. I don’t know how long he’ll be down. He’s … not the way you remember him.” That was enough information right now. She didn’t need to know the looks he’d given me, the pain and fear I’d noticed in his hazel orbs. 

 

“Okay, honey.” Suddenly she wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed me, then pecked me on the cheek, before pulling away and studying my face for a moment. “Be careful”

 

I laughed at that, not knowing what else to do. “I will. I promise.”

 

“Yeah,” she replied, clearly not believing it. “I know.”

 

*

 

He was up when I returned and clearly not happy to be on his own. 

 

“Where have you been?” he asked the moment I stepped over the threshold. 

 

I wanted to snap at him when I saw the fear in his eyes. “I was just downstairs for a moment. You were asleep,” I told him softly, hoping the expression would disappear again. 

 

He stopped his pacing, blew out a sharp breath and combed his fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t want to freak out, but I woke up … and you were gone.”

 

“It’s okay,” I gave him a smile to let him know it wasn’t a big deal. “I shouldn’t have left you like this. I know this is … pretty scary at the moment.”

 

His eyes found mine, “It’s just that … this is supposed to be my home but everything’s new and strange … and … they said I might never get my memory back. I have no idea how I’m gonna do this.” He suddenly frowned, “What about my job? Do I have a job?”

 

“Yeah, you’re a partner in an advertising agency,” I replied, hoping it was okay to supply this information. 

 

“Oh,” he uttered, lowering his head, “I have not the slightest idea what advertising is about.” It came out as a whisper, and without thinking twice I was at his side, wrapping my arms around him. 

 

“Brian,” I told him, cupping his face in my hands, “You have to be patient. Maybe you gonna remember soon.”

 

He pulled back violently, his eyes suddenly angry, “Or I might never,” he shouted, walking to the window. “What if I never remember? How am I gonna go on? What am I going to do for the rest of my life?”

 

Slowly I approached him, “You’re a partner in your agency. That means you’re going to get money no matter what.”

 

After a moment he nodded. Rubbing his neck he turned back to me, a sheepish expression on his face, “I suppose I’m going to say sorry again. But this is really freaking me out. It’s as if I’m reborn. There are flashes – but it’s all a big mess.”

 

“You’re going to sort it out. I know you will. You’re Brian Kinney.”

 

“That sounds as if I’m a fucking Prince.”

 

I giggled at that, “Close. Believe me, you’re close.”

 

He laughed, too. “I … uh … had a flashback just before you came back. And I need to … I need to know if it happened.”

 

“Well, ask,” I replied, “But you should know that we only know each other for about three years. If it comes to older stuff you’d better ask Mikey.”

 

“No, this … it’s about you.”

 

“Okay,” I touched his arm and urged him to sit down on the couch, then did the same, looking at him expectantly. “Ask.”

 

“Were you … were you at the hospital?”

 

“The…” I gulped, my heart starting to hammer again. “…Hospital?” Did he remember the bashing? The night of the prom? And how the fuck was I going to deal with it? I patted the pocket of my slacks; feeling for the card Karen had given me. Maybe….

 

“So, were you?”

 

“I …,” I took a deep breath, “was. Almost two years ago I was … I had an accident.” I settled for that version for now. If he was going to mention the bashing I could always supply more. 

 

He nodded, “I remember you … lying there in the bed.”

 

“You – what?” I wasn’t sure if I had shouted the words. His question had taken me by complete surprise. As far as I knew he was never at the hospital. Or maybe he just remembered being there in the beginning. Michael told me that Brian had been there, the bloody scarf around his neck, blood and tears smearing his face. It was the only solace I had. The only hope that maybe he’d cared for me, after all. 

 

He frowned, “You were lying in your bed and had nightmares. I remember watching you through the glass window, seeing you sleep.” He chuckled, “the nurse wasn’t going to let me smoke. Stupid rules. But I still came back. Night after night.”

 

Okay, I was going to pass out. I was sure I would. What the fuck did he remember? Could it be he was delusional? He’d never been in the hospital, or had he? “You … you were watching me through the glass window?” And, damn, I remembered the fucking window, right beside the door to my room.

 

“Yeah,” he nodded, once again lost in his memories. “And I wanted to go inside and hold your hand, but …,” he shook his head, “I don’t remember why I didn’t. Janice was nice – aside from the non-smoking policy – she offered me tea and soup.”

 

Janice! Holy fucking shit! She was one of the nurses taking my temperature at night. And she was always looking at me strangely. Because she’d known Brian was there night after night? It would be so totally Brian Kinney. To come and never say a word about it. And if it was true, what did it mean? It certainly meant he’d cared – even then. He hadn’t abandoned me. For a moment I wished he was right here and could hit his stubborn head – hard. I can still remember him standing in this very apartment and telling me that there had been no reason for him to come to the hospital – that he wasn’t my fucking therapist. 

 

Damn you. Damn you, Brian Kinney – for being a stubborn asshole. 

 

“What … happened?” 

 

Brian pulled me from my thoughts. “Huh?”

 

“You said you had an accident. What happened?”

 

God, how was I going to answer that? “I … uh … a classmate who wasn’t very fond of faggots hit me with a baseball bat.”

 

“Oh,” he nodded, but there was no recognition in his eyes, no sign of remembering. “I see.” I held my breath when he reached out and traced the scar on my forehead, “Was it here?” he whispered.

 

“Yeah,” I whispered back, lost in his eyes, in the touch of his fingers on my bare skin. It had been so long that he had touched me, and he’d rarely touched me like this. So gentle and, yes, loving.

 

“Did it hurt?” His voice was barely audible now, his breath hot on my face. 

 

“Yeah,” I said again, “But I … was in a coma. I didn’t feel a lot of it.”

 

“That’s good.” And then – without warning – he leaned forward and kissed me. Softly at first, only the slightest brushing of his mouth over mine, but that only lasted for seconds. As if I had no will of my own my arms wound themselves around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss in the process. Brian’s arms came around me as well, and I felt his hands flexing against my back. His mouth coaxed, cajoled, and when his tongue flicked over my lips, I couldn’t help the little sigh I gave and the sensations that started to settle in my gut. 

 

His hands came upwards to cup my head and tilted it back to deepen the kiss. A low, husky sound rose from deep in his chest as his fingers combed through my hair, before he probed tentatively past the soft barrier of my lips, his tongue finding and tracing my teeth. 

 

I heard myself sighing again, helpless against the emotions that were coursing through me. I felt hot and swayed against him, somehow landing on his lap in the process, my rapidly swelling body touching his, and I realized he was as hard as I was. He groaned and pulled back, looked at me, his eyes dark with lust. Still, there was a hesitancy in them, too, that was somehow far more erotic than anything we’d shared before. 

 

Breathing hard, our eyes locked and we stared at each other in silence, before rational thinking returned. I pulled back, gingerly slipping from his lap. “We can’t do this,” I said with a shaky voice. “You’re too weak.”

 

“I feel alright,” he replied, but it wasn’t demanding. “But maybe you’re right. Although it feels like a sacrifice.” He grinned and my heart somersaulted in my chest. 

 

Trying to pull myself together, I straightened the shirt that had slipped from my pants. “Are you …” I stood, “Are you hungry?”

 

He looked at me, his eyes still dark, his lids heavy, and suddenly he laughed, “Yeah – I’m famished.”

 

“Me too,” I replied, and we both knew that we weren’t really talking about food. But for tonight we would pretend we were.


	4. Reason to Believe

Jesus-fucking-Christ! I almost made love with Brian last night and I never – not for one fucking second – thought about Ethan. 

 

I was sitting in the middle of Brian’s loft, sketchpad on my knees, the pencil poised, but nothing came. All I could think of was that I had left my lover’s bed in the morning and had been willing to jump into Brian’s only hours later. Okay, so I had done this before. Slipped out of Ethan’s bed and came back to Brian, but Ethan and I weren’t in a relationship then and Brian and I … I have no idea what Brian and I were. I thought we were fuck-buddies at best, but after his innocent revelation last night, I’m not so sure anymore. 

 

I still can’t believe that he came to see me in the hospital. And not just once. From the way it sounded, he was there often, probably every night. This damn, stubborn asshole. Would it have killed him to tell me he was there? Or to come during the day so I could see him? Thinking of it, it probably would have. Daphne thinks he’s just afraid to open up to his own feelings, me, I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s just the way it is. The way he is. To take care of the people he – loves. Not to let them know, not wanting their thanks, their gratitude. 

 

Sighing, I tried to think of anything to draw when the phone rang. Grabbing it quickly not to wake Brian, I braced myself for whoever that might be and almost sagged with relief when I heard Lindsay’s voice. 

 

“Justin, hi. It’s Linds.”

 

“Hi,” I smiled to myself. It was barely eight, but with a toddler in the house you could probably be glad if you got to stay in up until six. I still remember Molly jumping through the house at five, made me want to kill her.

 

“How was your first night?”

 

I blushed and was glad she couldn’t see me. I wondered what she would think of me if she knew. Damn, I really was a slut. Thanks Brian, for at least teaching me that. 

 

Shaking my head over my own train of thoughts, I said, “Not too bad. He woke up around midnight – from a nightmare, but he couldn’t remember what it was about.” Then I remembered Brian’s revelation from last night, “Linds? Do you know if Brian ever came to see me at the hospital?”

 

“You mean when you were in a coma?”

 

“Yeah. And later. He … told me he was there. At night. Watching me. He said he remembered.”

 

“No, I don’t,” she replied, sounding thoughtful, “But it would be typical for him, if you ask me. Just the thing he’d do.”

 

Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.

 

“How is he?” she wanted to know. 

 

“Okay. But … different. Not like the Brian I knew.”

 

“Meaning?”

 

I shrugged. How could I explain the way he was softer, gentler, a little hesitant. “Just different. Like the Brian I always wanted him to be.” 

 

There was silence for a moment, then, “Justin, are you still in love with him?” I heard the worry in her voice and knew it was for me. 

 

“Still? Again? Always?” I laughed slightly, “Who knows.”

 

“I see,” she waited for a moment before she asked, “And what about Ethan?”

 

“We broke up yesterday.”

 

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.” Her compassion was sincere, I could hear it in her voice. “But maybe … I mean if you’re still in love with Brian…” she trailed off, knowing that I would understand anyway.

 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Listen, now that we’re talking … I called Karen last night, his therapist. After he fell asleep. And she said it would be good for him to see Gus.”

 

“Oh, sure. Mel and I could–“

 

“–No,” I interrupted, “I don’t think he should have so many people so soon. Maybe you could come. Just you and Gus?” I hoped she would understand. It had nothing to do with Melanie. I liked her – even though she was a little too aggressive for my taste. 

 

After a short hesitation, she said, “Sure. I … understand. When do you want me to be there?”

 

“How about after lunch? Gus is at his best after he naps, right?”

 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Good idea. I’ll be there at two.”

 

“Great. See you then, Linds.”

 

“See you.” 

 

Replacing the phone, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think of someone I could ask about Brian having been at the hospital. Janice? Maybe she was still working there. But would she remember? There had to be a lot of patients over the years. On the other hand I doubted there would be a lot of gay bashing victims, so she might remember after all. 

 

Pushing it aside for the moment, I once again tried to concentrate on the drawing when I heard a rustle from the bed. 

 

“Justin?”

 

“I’m here,” I replied, not leaving my spot on the floor. “Do you need anything?”

 

Silently, I hoped he didn’t. The idea of seeing Brian in the morning, his hair tousled, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and, if he hadn’t changed completely, with a morning hard-on, was not what I needed right now. Of course the kiss last night had been nice – more than that actually. But I was still trying to digest the fact that I’d been ready to fuck him in the matter of a few hours. I wanted to believe it was because he seemed to have changed a great deal, but a part of me knew better. Resisting Brian had never been one of my particular skills. 

 

“No, I’m … okay,” came the hesitant answer, before I heard him going into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him – another thing I’ve never seen him doing before, and after a moment I heard the toilet flush and the shower started to run. Putting my sketchpad aside, I stood and walked towards the kitchen, starting the coffee machine and was about to mix him his morning shake when I stopped in mid-motion. 

 

What if he didn’t want a protein shake? He had changed so much in so many ways – maybe it was going to affect his eating habits too. And what about his drinking? Would he still like coffee? It wouldn’t be a loss if he lost his taste for alcohol, that much was sure. And maybe he was even going to cut down on drugs. 

 

“What are these?”

 

I hadn’t even heard him returning from the bathroom and so I was almost startled when I saw him standing only a few feet away, his hair still wet, droplets glistening on his bare chest, only a towel draped around his slim hips. I felt my mouth go dry, and was glad I was wearing sweatpants, and I needed a moment to notice the plastic bag he was holding in his right hand. But I instantly recognized it. 

 

Speaking of drugs …

 

“Those are pills. I’m not exactly sure what they are. E … Ecstasy of course, and other … stuff. Uppers, downers,” I shrugged, “who knows?”

 

He gave the bag a disgusted glance, before he looked at me, “Are they yours?”

 

Mine? “No … they’re not. I’m actually allergic to most drugs. Even Tylenol can set my system into overdrive.”

 

“Tylenol? Nobody’s allergic to Tylenol. Tylenol is what they give you if you’re allergic to-,” he stopped, the hand holding the bag suddenly starting to tremble. “I … I said this before, didn’t I? You were there,” he closed his eyes and swayed slightly. “Younger … your eyes were different … not so sad. But you … you were scared.”

 

Terrified. I had been terrified. “Yeah.”

 

“It was … the first time you came.”

 

I felt tears welling up, while I remembered the moment. I had never seen anything more beautiful than Brian before. He was completely naked, water droplets on his skin – like now – and even though I was trembling with a mixture of excitement and fear, I wanted him more than anything. All I could think was that this man, this … God … had chosen me. That he wanted me. 

 

Then his words started to sink in. “My eyes aren’t sad.”

 

His opened, “They are. You were innocent that night. Your eyes were young and excited.” He laughed slightly, “Even though you were scared shitless.”

 

“Was not.”

 

“The hell you weren’t.” He grinned, “And God, I wanted you. I remember,” he laughed – a joyous, happy sound, coming from the heart of someone who was glad that not all of his past was lost. “I remember how much I wanted you. You were the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen.”

 

I was going to dissolve any moment now. I was just not ready to deal with this new improved version of Brian Kinney. He thought I was beautiful. *Had* thought I was beautiful? 

 

Oh. My. God.

 

“I remember you coming into the apartment and standing there, in those awful pants you used to wear.” He stopped, grinned, “I suppose I am a label queen after all.”

 

I had to laugh, glad he was changing the subject. Seeing him standing in front of me like this was bad enough. A part of me wanted nothing but to rip the towel from his body and devour him right there. 

 

“So,” he became serious again, held up the bag, “These are mine, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But … you aren’t addicted or anything. You could go days without them.” I remember the time after I came from the hospital – he was dry then, and I didn’t see him pop one single pill.

 

He nodded, before he turned back to the bathroom. 

 

“What are you going to do with them?” I asked. Only moments later the toilet flushed a second time – and I had my answer.

 

*

 

Gus and Linds arrived a few minutes after two and the toddler was already struggling in his mother’s arms, eager to get inside and to his father. “Dada,” he shouted, indignant that his mommy wasn’t going to let go of him. “DaDa Da Da” he singsonged.

 

“Hey, Gus,” I smiled at the little boy, who was growing more and more into a spitting image of his father. 

 

“Gus.” 

 

Brian descended from the stairs, his eyes on his son, unsure once again. He did remember Gus, had been glad when I told him the boy and his mother were coming in the afternoon, but I also felt that he was afraid he might do the wrong thing or not remember what was important. 

 

“Da Da Da Da,” the boy babbled. “Down,” he demanded giving his mother a look so much like his father’s I could barely suppress a loud laugh. 

 

“Is it okay?” Lindsay asked, looking at me. 

 

“Yeah,” I nodded. I had talked to Karen again this morning and she had advised me to keep the meeting as natural as possible, to use Gus to maybe trigger Brian’s memory. The boy would not hold back, because he had no idea what a memory loss meant. He wouldn’t be careful around his father. But neither would he start to reveal things Brian had to remember on his own.

 

The moment Gus’ feet touched the ground it was like launching a rocket. With incredible speed he stormed towards his father who still stood near the stairs, still uncertain. But when the toddler’s arms wrapped around his leg, something changed. 

 

“Up, Up.” Gus demanded and without thinking twice, Brian did exactly that. A beautiful smile spread across his face. “Hey, you’re a big boy, aren’t you?”

 

“Dig Doy,” Gus agreed with a toothy grin of his own. “Da Da.”

 

“Yes, I’m your daddy. Gus – it’s a real butch name,” he declared grinning at Lindsay over the boy’s head. “Hi, Linds.”

 

The blonde blinked sudden tears away, “Hi, Bri. You … remember me?”

 

“Not really,” he admitted sheepishly after a moment, “Well, I do … remember …” He coughed and once again he colored. I almost giggled at the dumbfounded expression on Lindsay’s face. I wonder if she’s ever seen Brian blush before. I was slowly getting used to the sight. 

 

Trying to spare him the embarrassment I said, “Hey, I know you and Lindsay were more than friends once. I’m okay with that.”

 

“Uh-huh,” was all Brian said, burying his face in Gus’ hair. 

 

“It’s been ages ago,” Lindsay jumped to my aid. “We were still in college. And … I wasn’t sure I was a lesbian and … well, you’re not bad to look at.” She winked at Brian and his color deepened, making my gut go all fluttery. Jesus – how was I going to survive this? He was simply sweeping me away – and he wasn’t even consciously trying. No wonder I – or any other guy for that matter – didn’t stand a chance when he was still aware of his powers of seduction.

 

“Wanna pway,” Gus decided a moment later and wiggled from his father’s arms, then with the certainty very small children possess he went to a box in the corner I hadn’t noticed before and opened it. I was stunned to see toys stored in it. That must have happened after I moved out – I didn’t remember ever having seen the box there.

 

A red car appeared, then a collection of bears and after only a few minutes the floor was littered with an assortment of toys, Gus in the middle, and next to him his father. Lindsay was sitting on a chair, nursing an orange juice and I was sitting on the floor, too, trying to draw the scene. 

 

“Tell me the name of that bear,” Brian said, holding it in his hand. 

 

“Howie,” Gus replied without hesitation. 

 

“Howie, huh?” His father rolled his eyes, reminding me of the old Brian for a moment. “And I definitely need to get other furniture. White isn’t something you can have around a toddler.”

 

Lindsay almost choked on her drink, “Excuse me? Did you just say you wanted to change the furniture?” She was only now starting to find out about this new persona living in the familiar shell. 

 

Not looking up, Brian nodded, “Sure. White chairs, white sofa, white … everything. It’s ridiculous. We need something darker. Gray … or blue or something that’s more resistant against little dirty hands.” He smiled at Gus, tousled the boy’s hair and the toddler grinned up at him. “Car,” he announced, pointing at the red vehicle.

 

“Yeah, it’s a car. Thank God it’s not a jeep.” Brian rolled his eyes again, then suddenly froze, his hand still in his son’s hair, “You,” he turned and looked at me, “You named him.”

 

“Uh – well, I chose one of two names.”

 

“You said he wouldn’t survive a day at school with a name like Abraham.” He shook his head, “Why would anyone want to name a kid Abraham?” 

 

“Lindsay’s wife, Melanie is Jewish,” I told him, putting my sketch pad down. “She said her grandfather was called Abraham.”

 

“Thank God you saved him from a fate like that. Gus might sound butch … but it’s okay, I guess. It fits, doesn’t it Gus.”

 

“Bits,” Gus agreed with a big grin. 

 

“He lives with you and your partner?” Brian raised his head, looked at Lindsay.

 

“Yeah. He’s our son. You … you gave your sperm.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Brian nodded, “Justin told me already. Melanie is dark haired, right? More aggressive.”

 

I realized Lindsay wasn’t sure how to react to this, so I jumped in, “She’s dark haired, yes.”

 

“So,” the blonde put down here glass, “What did you do today? Did you leave the loft at all?”

 

“We had a coffee in the bar around the corner,” Brian replied, a frown appearing on his forehead, “I was supposed to know the owner.” He sighed, “But I didn’t. I didn’t recognize him at all.”

 

“I’m sure that’ll change,” Lindsay began, “Given time…“

 

“You don’t know that,” Brian said more forceful than necessary, causing Gus to look up at him in confusion. “Dada?” 

 

“It’s okay, baby,” his father stroked his hair, and the toddler turned back to his toys. Taking a deep breath, Brian rubbed his nape, “I’m sorry, but it drives me crazy to hear people telling me it’s going to be alright. Justin,” his eyes found mine, “is the only one who seems to understand, but it’s not really surprising given the fact that he–“ He stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes suddenly going wide, his pupils dilating, I saw sweat starting to form above his upper lips. 

 

Instantly worried, I scrambled over to him, but didn’t dare to touch him. “Brian?”

 

He was staring ahead, unseeing, his breath coming in short gasps to his slightly parted lips. 

 

“Brian?” Lindsay stood and ignoring Gus’ protests, she scooped him into her arms. 

“No,” the boy said firmly, reaching for his father.

 

“Daddy isn’t feeling well, Gus,” she told the toddler who of course didn’t understand a word. His face started to scrunch up in anger and frustration. “Daaaa Daaaa.”

 

“Brian?” I asked again, even more worried now. He had mentioned my memory loss, could it be he remembered.

 

“NO!” 

 

With that one word torn from his lips he struggled to his feet, and took a step back, still not seeing anything, “No.” He shook his head, his face pale, his lips bloodless, his pupils so large you could barely see his irises. “God dammit, NO!”

 

“Justin?” I heard the concern in Lindsay’s voice but I couldn’t deal with her right now. 

 

Instead I leapt on my feet and slowly approached Brian. Keeping my voice even, I held out one hand, “Brian? Can you hear me?”

 

His head made a motion as if someone had slapped him, and for a moment his eyes seemed to focus, but the next they were staring ahead again. “He … h-he c-came after y-you,” he stammered, a trembling hand combing through his hair. “I … I saw him. H-he had a bat. A-a baseball bat.” His voice broke on the last word and Lindsay and I exchanged a shocked glance when suddenly a tear rolled down his cheek. 

 

Brian was crying? 

 

I was stunned. 

 

Brian Kinney was crying. In front of other people. 

 

But maybe it made sense. I had seen how shaken he was from the events of my prom – then. The old cynical Brian hadn’t been able to shake off the images deeply ingrained in his mind. So it wasn’t really all that surprising this improved version was taking it even harder. 

 

Shaking off my own shock at seeing him like this, I finally dared to touch his arm, “Brian? It’s okay, Brian.”

 

Tearful eyes focused on me, the pain in them making my heart clench in my chest. “I was there, wasn’t I? I was there and I … I couldn’t stop it.” And without warning he broke down, started to cry like a little boy. I could do nothing but wrap my arms around him. “I couldn’t stop it,” he sobbed, “I was too late. Always too late.”

 

“Shhhh,” I tried to soothe him, sank with him to the ground, cradling him in my arms. I heard the door of the loft open and close and knew Lindsay had left, the best she could do in a situation like this. She wouldn’t have been able to help, and Gus wouldn’t understand what was happening to his father. 

 

“Justin,” he whispered brokenly, clinging to me, his arms holding me in a vise grip. “Justin.”

 

I held him back and cried, too. And strangely enough I didn’t mind. Because finally, we could cry together.


	5. Reason to Believe

Finally – with the help of the light tranquilizers Karen had prescribed – I managed to get Brian to lay down and rest, and when his breath became deep and regular I went to the kitchen, then decided against cooking, opting for take-out, instead. I simply felt too drained by our recent emotional crying-fest to do anything productive for the rest of the day. Besides, I had no idea when Brian would wake up again – so it was easier this way.

 

Around six, Lindsay called and asked how we were. I told her Brian had calmed down – I didn’t tell her that he’d needed more than an hour for it – that Karen had told me on the phone to see it as a success instead of a crisis, and that these episodes were to be expected. 

 

Still, I could barely wait for Brian’s second session with his therapist the next day. I was starting to feel a little overwhelmed by what was tumbling down on me. I could only go with my intuition where Brian was concerned, but I had no way of knowing if I was doing more damage than good. One thing, however, was crystal clear. Brian needed me – if only to have me close when he was drowning in an onslaught of memories. He had pretended to me in a way I never would’ve dreamt of, and I wasn’t sure if I really liked it as much as I had imagined I would. I felt myself starting to miss the old, confident Brian, longing for his ‘fuck you’ attitude with the patented ‘tongue-in-cheek’ expression. 

 

Of course, I was aware of thinking that way was kind of crazy. For years I had complained to anyone who would listen, how much of an asshole Brian was, how he treated me like shit, and how I wasn’t more than a convenient fuck for him. And now, that I finally had the softer, gentler, more open version I wasn’t content either. 

 

The problem was, I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was just that I had a hard time watching him struggle, seeing the pain in his eyes, the torment he had to go through remembering. But maybe the old Brian had also been easier to dismiss – not that anything connected to Brian had ever been easy – but still. At least I had been able to convince myself that I was better off without him. 

 

Now all the reasons I had hammered into my head were suddenly gone, and I found myself wide open, vulnerable to anything that could hurt me in a way I would probably not be able to survive this time. What would happen if Brian regained his full memory and as a consequence would slip back into his old habits? How was I going to deal with that? I had managed to save myself once – thanks to Ethan – and the firm belief that Brian had done nothing to deserve me. But how was I ever going to forget what I had seen these last hours? How was I ever going to forget what Brian had let me see…albeit subconsciously. 

 

I couldn’t. And that was scaring me to no end. 

 

*****

 

Karen was already waiting for us when we arrived at the hospital the next day. Brian had slept relatively well through the night. Unlike mine, his demons were held at bay by remedies I had no intention of taking. So I looked a little disheveled and exhausted when we entered her office at noon.

 

She greeted us with a smile, shook our hands, then asked if Brian wanted to have me in the room during his therapy.

 

“Yes,” his eyes flickered to mine, “Yes, I want him here.”

 

A bit startled, but not really surprised – as I said I was starting to get used to this new Brian – I found a chair in the corner and listened to the conversation unfold. 

 

“So,” Karen reclaimed her seat behind her desk and looked at Brian, “How was your night?”

 

“Okay,” he replied, sitting upright in his chair, his hands entwined in his lap, a small frown marring his forehead. “Justin told you about…?” 

 

“Yes,” she nodded, “He called yesterday after you remembered the events of his Prom.” Actually, we had talked for over an hour and she was now informed about everything regarding my Prom. When Brian said nothing, she leaned back in her chair, “How did you feel…remembering?” 

 

“It hurt,” Brian said without hesitation. “I felt as if … it was happening again.” He shook his head, “I felt every emotion. I could even hear the bat hitting him.” For a moment he had to close his eyes, speaking in a low voice, “I saw the blood. There was so much blood and even though I pressed the scarf on the wound, it wouldn’t stop bleeding.” 

 

“Were you afraid?”

 

“I was terrified. I thought he was going to die, bleeding to death right in front of my eyes.” I saw his hands starting to shake and he entwined them more tightly. “And he wouldn’t wake up. For weeks he didn’t wake up. I saw him in his bed, each night, and he was so still. Like he was dead already.”

 

There it was again, the insistence that he’d seen me in the hospital. There was no doubt in his eyes, he was sure he’d been there and I believed him. He’d said ‘each night’. He’d been there…all the time. And nobody had told me. I wasn’t sure if it would’ve changed what happened between us later, but it sure as hell would’ve made me feel a lot better. 

 

“But he woke up.” It was a statement, not a question. Karen looked at me for a moment and I nodded. 

 

“Yes,” Brian let out a breath, “But he was still … he had nightmares. His right hand was,” the frown on his forehead deepened, “I could see it twitching in his sleep. But they wouldn’t give him anything. The nurse said there were things that couldn’t be cured with drugs.” His knuckles turned white, “I … remember … laughing at that.”

 

“Why,” Karen asked gently. “Why were you laughing?”

 

“Because I … used them to … to …,” he stopped, shook his head, confusion entering his eyes, “I … don’t know.”

 

I saw the therapist making a note on her pad, then she changed the subject. “What else do you remember?”

 

His head came up, “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, you seem to remember your name, your friends – some of them at least. Your son. Did you remember his mother?”

 

“Yes,” Brian nodded, “I remember Lindsay. From back in college. I couldn’t … Seeing her yesterday was a surprise though.”

 

She raised a brow, “A surprise; how?”

 

“She was older. I didn’t remember her. Only when she was younger, we … uh … had something going in college.”

 

“So she’s straight?” I wondered why she was asking the question. I had already told her Lindsay was a lesbian and living with her partner. 

 

“No, she’s a lesbian. But she wasn’t … I think she wasn’t sure then. Her parents are … well, they’re upper class, very traditional. They didn’t approve of her … choices. I think she more or less tried to convince herself that she could be what they expected her to.”

 

“I see,” Karen gave him a smile, “What about you?”

 

He grinned, a boyish grin that was new to me, “I was curious. And I was … well, she didn’t look half bad.”

 

“But you still knew you were gay?” 

 

“Yes,” he nodded, certain of it. “I was gay. No doubt about it. I might have slept with Lindsay, but I … was looking at guys.”

 

She laughed a little before she went on, “What else do you remember?”

 

“I remember being in high school. With Mikey.” 

 

She made a note, “Mikey?”

 

“Michael. He was my best friend – back then.”

 

Back then? I perked up. What did that mean?

 

“You were close?”

 

“Yeah.” Brian relaxed, “We did a lot of crazy stuff. Imagined we were superheroes saving the world.” He suddenly frowned again, “I only remember it now. It wasn’t there yesterday.”

 

Ignoring the comment, Karen asked, “What about now?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You said he was your best friend back then. What about now? Is he still your best friend?” 

 

Hesitating for a moment, Brian seemed to consider the question, “I … I’m not sure. I think … Justin’s my partner. Shouldn’t he be my best friend, too?”

 

I felt my heart start to hammer in my chest. ‘Justin is my partner’ – how I had longed for words like these. Now he’d said them – when we weren’t even together anymore. Of course he had no way of knowing that. 

 

“I don’t know…is he?”

 

He gave an exasperated sigh, “Now you sound exactly like a shrink.”

 

Karen grinned, “I am a shrink. So – is Justin your best friend?”

 

Another moment of hesitation, “I … think. I mean, I … shared things with him I never shared with Michael. Or at least I think I did.” He shook his head, “God, this is … how am I supposed to answer the question when I can’t remember?”

 

“Try.”

 

He gave her the evil eye, but then lowered his lids, tried to concentrate. “I … I remember the night I made partner. I came home, wanting to celebrate. I remember holding a bottle of champagne. But …,” he frowned, “Justin wasn’t there. So I … went out …somewhere. I can’t remember where I went. But I know I met Michael, and … some other friends.”

 

I listened with my heart thumping like crazy. I did remember the night, too. I had gone to Vermont – snowboarding without him, thinking he hadn’t cared.

 

Karen leaned slightly forward, “What about Justin?”

 

“He … he wasn’t there. But I wanted to find him. Wanted to tell him that I just made partner. Wanted to celebrate. I remember leaving the loft in search of him.” His eyes popped open, found mine, “Where were you?”

 

“I was in Vermont. Snowboarding,” I told him, my mouth dry, “We …” Fuck, how was I going to explain this without revealing too much?

 

“We …?” 

 

But he was waiting for me to continue, and so I tired without giving away too much, “We had a fight.” We didn’t have a real fight of course. He just told me he wasn’t going with me, that his business had to come first. And I sulked like a child. “We were supposed to go together, but you … you went to Chicago instead.”

 

He nodded, then frowned again, “Ryder, my former boss, had just sold the agency I was working for. And the new owner … he said I had a week to convince him not to fire me. I had worked so fucking hard for this firm and I … I couldn’t just let it go. So I went to Chicago, acquired a new client; one the new owner had been after for years. Part of the deal was that I had to become partner.”

 

For a moment I felt sick. Then instantly it was replaced by anger. If Brian had told me. If he’d said one word. “You never told me that.” The words were out before I could stop them. Two pairs of eyes turned towards me; one confused – an expression I was slowly getting used to – the other slightly curious.

 

“Why …,” Brian rubbed his forehead, “Why wouldn’t I tell you that? We’re partners. Of course I would…,” he trailed off, swallowed, “Or wouldn’t I?”

 

Like that, the anger deflated. How was I going to hold onto it in the face of his torment. 

 

“I never told you,” he said it flatly, almost emotionless. His eyes, however, said it all. There was pain, and disgust. He suddenly stood, starting to pace the office, his movements agitated, almost jerky. “So tell me, what kind of partner was I, when I didn’t even tell you that. What kind of person am I that I would let you believe I didn’t care shit for you, that disappointing you meant nothing to me?” He stopped, combed his hands through his hair, “What kind of an asshole am I?”

 

I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t so tempted to cry at the same time. How often had I silently called him asshole? How often had I cursed him for being the way he was? But now that he was obviously not so fond of his former self, all I wanted was to take him in my arms and tell him that it didn’t matter. That I had forgiven him long ago, that I knew that deep inside he’d always been the way he was now. The problem was, I didn’t know that. I – like all the others – had been fooled by the way he was acting, the way he was hiding everything behind a thick wall, protective layers he’d been forced to build over the years in order to survive his youth, his parents, the lack of love, and to get to where he was now; a Partner in an advertising agency, openly gay, strong, confident. He had learned that nobody cared for all the pain and torment that lay underneath, least of all, Brian himself. And whenever the pain had threatened to become too much he had dulled it with either alcohol, drugs or sex. 

 

No wonder he’d used them to the limit. 

 

It was like veils being torn from my eyes, like having been blind and suddenly able to see. 

 

Slowly I stood, walked over to him and ignored the way he flinched when I touched his arm, “You’re not an asshole, Brian. But you were hurt a lot when you were young. You had to learn to protect yourself.”

 

His head came up at that, and his eyes met mine, the anguish in them almost making me scream. He stared at me for a long moment, then slowly his arms came up and around me, pulling me close, and I could do nothing but hold him back, stroking him, whispering words of nonsense in his ear. I felt him shudder, then draw a shaky breath, while he stayed in my embrace. 

 

Karen looked at me over his shoulder. And to my surprise she smiled.

 

*****

 

Brian sank down on the sofa the moment we entered the loft, completely drained from the most recent events, and I have to admit that I didn’t feel a lot better either. 

 

Karen sent us home after Brian had shuddered in my arms, told us we should take it easy for the rest of the day. She also told me that if necessary, Brian could have another two tranquilizers to help him sleep, but that he should try it without them first. 

 

“Want some water?” I asked over my shoulder walking towards the fridge. 

 

Without opening his eyes, he replied, “Some juice if we have it, please.” 

 

Please? 

 

I couldn’t remember ever having heard Brian use that word – at least not where I was concerned. But somehow it didn’t shake me anymore. It was just the way he was now. Plus I was still reeling with what had occurred during the session with Karen. 

 

So he’d come home, hoping to celebrate with me – and found an empty apartment. I refused to feel sorry for him. For one, it was his fault as well as mine. As childish as my reaction might have been, it was only triggered by his refusal to share any information about himself. Had I known about the importance of his trip to Chicago, I wouldn’t have left for Vermont. 

 

Yet – knowing that he’d come home – to me – to celebrate, that he’d been searching for me, not Michael, not anybody else, left me speechless because it said more than words could. Thanks to the memory loss I was now permitted not only to see a new, improved version of Brian Kinney, but also through the new version’s eyes parts of the old Brian he’d hidden so effectively before. Parts I had always hoped and suspected to be there, but that had surfaced all too rarely. 

 

More important, however, was the discovery that Brian was disgusted by the man he’d once been. Could that mean that even if he’d regain all his memory he’d be changed forever? That the final version of Brian Kinney could be somewhere between the old and the new? I almost laughed at the thought. If that came true, he’d become irresistible. 

 

Shaking my head at my thoughts, I poured a glass of orange juice, something he now loved to drink, and some milk for me, then carried both back to the couch. 

 

“Here you go,” I handed him his drink and he gave me a grateful smile. 

 

“Thanks.” He took several large gulps, then released a breath. “I … I thought about it on the way back … about what happened during the session, you know.” With a nod I encouraged him to go on, and he did. “If … if it’s too much for you … I don’t expect you to be there all the time.” 

 

For a moment I felt a sharp pang of disappointment. Was he already reverting to the secretive man he’d been before? But his next words made it clear he wasn’t.

 

“Just … I see it hurts you … and … don’t misunderstand me, I want you there. It’s,” he smiled, “easier with you around. I just thought…” 

 

“…No,” I interrupted him, “I’d like to go with you again. And it didn’t hurt,” I saw his doubtful look and amended, “Okay, so it hurt. But it wasn’t that bad. I … I’m glad we finally could share this. My mom always says that sharing pain only makes a relationship stronger, it’s always trying to be strong that keeps people apart.”

 

He sipped, “Sounds like a very wise woman, your mom.”

 

I thought about the way she had reacted when she’d first heard about my being here and grimaced. “Most of the time, but not always. When she found out I was gay, she made me go see a shrink.”

 

Brian chuckled at that, but after a moment his eyes darkened, “I can’t even remember what mine did. Hell, I can’t remember them. Period.” He looked up, “Do you know anything about my parents?”

 

I drank several gulps to buy some time, not sure how to answer. I could hardly tell him what had occurred between Brian and his parents. Besides, I didn’t know half of it. Michael was probably the guy to ask. But Karen had reminded me once again that Brian had to remember on his own, that only the basics could be supplied. So I finally decided to go with that. “Your father died about a year ago. No, more like a year and a half. He had cancer. Your mother is still alive. But I only met her once.”

 

He nodded at that, then put his glass down and sighed. “I feel a lot better.”

 

“Is there anything you’d like to do? Karen said we should take it easy, but if you…,” I trailed off when I saw his eyelids drop, my mouth instantly going dry. “Brian?”

 

His voice was low and husky when he answered, “I know something I’d like to do. Can you…,” he licked his lips, and my groin instantly tightened, “…guess what I’m talking about.”

 

I could barely breathe, and with trembling fingers set the glass down. “Brian … I-I don’t know,” I stuttered, “if t-this is a good idea.”

 

He said nothing at first, but I could see his eyes change at my words. Then, after a moment, he turned his head away, swallowed hard. “I … understand,” he whispered.

 

Feeling his pain as if it was my own, I stood, “Brian-“

 

He held up a hand, but didn’t look at me, “No … it’s okay. After what I did … the way I behaved … I can’t blame you.” He barked out a short laugh, unhappily, “Hell, I’d probably kick myself out of the loft until I came to my senses even suggesting such a thing.”

 

Oh God. I stared down at him in shock. He thought that – 

 

“No.” Not contemplating my next move for a second, I was at his side, reaching out and stroking his back. “Brian, it has nothing to do with that. Please,” I let one hand wander through his hair, “look at me. Please.”

 

Slowly, after what seemed like an eternity, his head came around, and I gasped when I saw his eyes wet with tears. “Oh, Brian,” I whispered, cupping his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

 

He shook his head, pushed my hand away, “I’m not going to plead for a mercy fuck,” he said forcefully, his orbs suddenly filled with anger. “Understand?”

 

“Yes,” I nodded, locking my eyes with his, “I just thought … I wasn’t sure you were really up to it.” I saw him clench his jaw, and hasted to add, “I – I mean the session with Karen was very … emotional and … I really want you. I’ve always wanted-“ 

 

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I could almost see his control snap, and I knew there was no way he could stop himself. Spanning the back of my head with his hand, he found my mouth, and I felt a hot, driving need cursing through him, and in that instant my own resolve crashed like a ton of bricks. I was in such sensory overload all of a sudden – no wonder after months of only dreaming of his kisses – I was drowning in the taste of him, and it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. 

 

I wanted it all. 

 

It was the taste of blood that snapped me out of it – mine, his – I couldn’t tell. But knowing that he might be hurt stopped me dead in my tracks. It wasn’t until I backed off that I realized I was already sitting in his lap. My heart thundering against my chest wall, blood running thick and heavy. Looking up I saw him studying me, his mouth swollen and wet from the kiss, a gentleness in his eyes I had never seen before. Giving me a slightly uneven smile, he pressed a small package in my hand. “I found this in the drawer beside my bed this morning,” he whispered, then laughed slightly, “I found more than one actually, but I put this in my pants – just in case.”

 

I could only stare at him. He’d been thinking about this the whole day? I instantly realized how stupid that sounded. I had thought about it ever since our kiss last night. My pulse was going berserk. Of course I knew that I was holding a condom, and a rush so heavy and hot slammed through me, I thought my lower body just might explode. And I simply could not breathe. 

 

He gave me another smile, and for an instant I thought I was going to dissolve right on top of him. Then he touched me again and I felt another crazy rush bolting through me. So overcharged I could barely think, I scrambled from his lap and held out my hand, and he took it instantly. 

 

Once in the bedroom, I dropped the condom on the bed and we sat down, simply looking at each other, before I slowly reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one after the other, pausing to brush my fingers over the smooth skin underneath. I laughed shakily when I realized my hands were trembling like crazy and I was fumbling with the buttons, prolonging the act of removing Brian’s shirt involuntarily. 

 

As soon as it was open I slid it from his shoulders, then reached for my own and simply pulled it over my head. My fingers were at the buttons of my pants, when I felt Brian’s on my waistband. The jolt of anticipation was so strong, so debilitating, I had to close my eyes and rest my forehead against his for a moment, a violent shudder coursing through both our bodies. 

 

After he shoved my pants away, it was almost more than I could manage to do the same with his and slide my hands down his hips, stripping away the rest of his clothes. He lay back, then arched up to help me remove the rest of his clothing, as always completely unashamed by his nakedness. At least that hadn’t changed. 

 

My own pants were still dangling somewhere between my legs, but right now I didn’t, couldn’t, care. Unable to stop myself, I came down on top of him, grinding my hard cock against his, then sighed deeply at the feel of his skin so close to mine. 

 

He made a soft sound, and somehow it freed me from my own driving need. Suddenly all that counted was Brian. It was all about Brian. 

 

Reaching for the condom, I opened the package and reached for Brian’s cock, when his hand stopped me in mid-motions. Looking up, our eyes met, and to my utter surprise I saw him shaking his head ever so slightly. “No,” he whispered. “It’s for you. I want you to fuck me.”

 

I could only stare at him, too stunned to speak for a moment. I had fucked him before, but never – not once – had he’d asked me to. He’d simply agreed to the unspoken plea in my eyes. “Are you sure?” I had to ask. I had to know he was certain.

 

“Yes,” he replied, smiling slightly, “I’m sure. I want to feel you inside of me.”

 

When I reached down to slide the condom over my already aching cock, he held my hand again. “It’s not always going to be this way around,” he said in mock seriousness. 

 

I laughed, then continued with the condom and this time he let me. 

 

I wanted him like crazy, but I still had to touch him first. To touch and to taste. Every inch. Every curve. Every hollow. One by one, I stroked and tasted every sensitive point, every pulsating part of his body, using my hands and lips to arouse him – not that it was really necessary – to bring him to the brink of becoming insane with need. I wanted to give him all the gratification there was to experience, everything Brian had taught me, wanted it to be meaningful and deep. This was not just simple fucking. We were making love. *I* was making love to Brian. 

 

Taking his nipples, one at a time, between my teeth, I bit them slightly, suckled them, drawing them deeper and deeper into my mouth, while my hands were busy stroking his stiff groin. He cried out and arched up against my hands, and I moved on top of him, my control shattering. I needed to be inside him. I needed him now.

 

Rising his legs on my shoulders, the way he had shown me so often, I entered him slowly, his hole barely resisting the intrusion, I gritted my teeth, desperation claiming me, the pleasure so intense it nearly took me under. Unable to stop myself I started to move, the urgent thrusting rhythm sounding in my brain. My mind a red-hot fog, I felt his stiff cock between us, and reached for it, stroking it, so we would climax together, knowing that I wouldn’t last a lot longer. I could count the times I had topped Brian on one hand – and the sensations were overwhelming me.

 

I heard him cry out and the moment his hot semen spurted, wetting my stomach and his, I followed next, coming so hard and heavy inside of him, I didn’t know if the mindless cries were his or mine. 

 

Sex with Brian had always been good – more than good actually. But this – being united with Brian like this – it was entirely different. This time it was like falling into an ocean of sensations, each one stronger, more powerful than the last. This time it was like nothing I had ever experienced before – because I knew we were in this together, in a sensory place, locked in a dance of raw, hot desire. We were so aware of each other it was if we were sharing one skin. This was more – far more – than I’d ever imagined. 

 

It took me a long time to recover, and an even longer time to stir. Rising my head I stared down into the eyes of my lover – Brian’s open and clear, watching me. I didn’t care that mine were slowly filling with tears. Slowly I eased out of him, then leaned forward to kiss him softly, our lips barely touching. 

 

“I love you,” I heard him whisper.

 

“I love you too,” I whispered back. 

 

I fell asleep on top of him, and all I could think was that I never wanted this to end.


	6. Reason to Believe

Michael

 

I thought Ben was going to kill me for, once again, rearranging the dishes on the table. But I simply couldn’t help it. I was too nervous to just sit and wait. 

 

“Michael,” Ben sighed and looked up from his computer. “Would you just … calm down, please. You’re going to have a heart-attack any moment now.”

 

“Sorry,” I replied, not really meaning it. Once again, I inspected the table.

 

“Brian’s your friend, Michael. You’re not waiting for a date.”

 

I glared at him for a moment, then sighed. “But he’s … all changed. You wouldn’t believe it. He doesn’t even like his fucking jeep anymore.” I said it as if it explained everything. 

 

But of course Ben – who never cared for a car in his life – wasn’t impressed. “I say, good for him. I mean, really, do you think it’s healthy, the way he acted around the thing?”

 

“What’s wrong with caring for a car?” I asked, instantly feeling offended. I had returned the golden sports car to David, but I could still remember how proud I was driving it. “A lot of people care for their cars.”

 

“It’s a waste of time. Cars are dead. They’re meant to be an easy way of transportation.” 

 

And I was definitely not in the mood for any philosophical discussion right now. I’d never get philosophy anyway. “I know,” I gave in, knowing it was the easiest way to go. “It’s just that he cared for the car. When Justin’s father wrecked the old one, he instantly got a new. Driving the jeep was part of his image.”

 

Giving his computer a last glance, Ben got up and walked over to me, putting a hand on my shoulder, “I know you’re scared he doesn’t love you anymore. Believe me, it’s not necessary.” His eyes grew soft, “He can’t help loving you, Michael. I know I can’t.”

 

Of course I could do nothing but kiss him for that. Of course, that was the exact moment the doorbell rang, but I needed a moment to realize what it was. I was still getting used to this new sound. I had moved in with Ben three months ago, right when Emmett decided that Ted’s apartment had a lot more comfort than the one we shared. Not wanting to search for a new roommate, I finally accepted Ben’s offer and hauled my stuff over here. 

 

“I think it’s your guests,” he whispered against my lips, breathing hard. “Damn.”

 

I chuckled at that, promising to make it up to him later, then walked to open the door. I had to suck in my breath. The Boy Wonder was grinning at me with that well-fucked look in his eyes I had come to detest. And Brian – Brian looked satisfied, like the proverbial cat who’d just found the fattest mouse on the planet. 

 

I felt my stomach drop and a very unwelcome pang of jealousy spread through me. Trying to push it down, I forced myself to smile at my guest, reminding myself that this was about Brian. My best friend. And for him I could endure looking at a well-fucked Justin; even if barely.

 

“Hey Michael,” Justin said. When he saw Ben standing in the background, he walked past me and greeted him too. Brian on the other hand hesitated for a moment before I heard a soft…

 

“Hi, Mikey.”

 

I felt tears well up in my eyes at the all too familiar words and without thinking I enveloped him in a bear hug, “I’m so glad to see you, Brian.” I held onto him for a moment, before I pulled back. I just needed to touch him, needed to assure myself that he was indeed alive. I would never forget finding him in his loft, lying there lifeless, his lips blue, breath hardly recognizable anymore. Riding with him to the hospital were some of the most horrible moments in my life. Waiting in the hallway to hear if he was going to live or die seemed like a never-ending nightmare. I was seized by the same helplessness that came over me when Ben was sick – and we didn’t know if he was going to make it. 

 

We finally parted and for a moment our eyes met, before I pulled him inside. “I’m glad you could come.” I was careful to include Justin into this. Even though I still didn’t know what to think of it, it was quite obvious that he and Brian were an item once more – and whatever would be the outcome of this, I could see that being with Justin was doing my friend good – even if I wanted to scream at the sight of them being together like this again.

 

“Who would refuse an invitation for Brunch,” Justin commented, eying the croissants Ben had gotten this morning, lustfully. 

 

“You certainly wouldn’t,” Brian said dryly. “I can’t remember if it was always this way. But the kid can eat like a dumpster. I’ve never seen anyone eat like that.” Shaking his head, he crossed the room, stopped in front of Ben. “I … uh … I don’t remember you. But Justin told me you were Michael’s partner. So – hi.” He held out his hand and Ben shook it. 

 

So Brian had no memory that he’d met Ben before. And a thought went through me like lightning. Did Brian even remember the amount of men he’d been with? And what exactly did he remember? 

 

Shoving the questions away for the moment, I nodded towards the table. “Sit down then. I’m going to get the coffee. Latte for you, Brian?”

 

“No, thanks, I take mine straight, black – without sugar.”

 

Pausing for a moment to take that in, my eyes involuntarily went to Justin, who shrugged and slightly shook his head, but didn’t comment. He’d already told me that there were some changes in Brian I would have to adjust to. Still, it was strange to look at a person who you used to know like yourself – well, maybe not that well, but pretty close – and who had turned into someone you had to get to know all over again.

 

“Black, no sugar, is coming up,” I finally managed and was glad to escape to the kitchen for a moment to collect myself. I was about to pour the second cup, when I heard steps behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Justin standing in the doorway. 

 

“I know it’s not…not easy for you,” he said. 

 

Acknowledging it with a nod, I asked, “What does he remember?”

 

“It’s hard to say,” he replied, coming to stand next to me. “I think he remembers a lot more about you now. He told his therapist that you were pretending to be superheroes, going out to save the world.”

 

I couldn’t help my eyes becoming all watery again, “He remembered that?”

 

“He sure did.” Justin gave me a smile. “He said you were close. But…,” he paused, then cleared his throat, “he’s still pretty confused. Unsure most of the time. He sometimes doesn’t know if the things he remembers are … real. He expects me to confirm them, and I can’t always do that, because I have no idea if they’re true.”

 

“You can always call me,” I offered instantly, inwardly feeling new resentment against the boy. Why hadn’t he done it already? Did he think I was going to hurt Brian? He was my best friend for fuck’s sake. 

 

“It’s not that … I already told him that if it’s about his youth you were the one to ask. It’s … other things. He said …,” I saw him struggle with the decision if he should reveal this to me, before he went on. “He told me he came to the hospital each night when I was injured. First I thought it was a product of his imagination. Something his mind projected because he wanted to believe it. But now I know it’s the truth. He knows too much about the room, about me.” He shook his head, and I could see how much this piece of news had shaken him. 

 

I could barely digest it myself. “So he – came to see you each night. But of course being Brian he didn’t tell you. Or me. Or anyone.” I put down the empty cup with a loud thump, suppressing the urge to go out into the living room and yell at Brian for being such a stupid asshole. I also had to deal with the fact that he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me, instead he’d preferred the blame I placed on him. “This stupid, fucking idiot. He let us all think he was a cold, heartless bastard, let my mom …,” I shook my head, “Shit. He’s so unfuckingbelievable.”

 

Justin laughed suddenly and when I gave him a questioning look, he explained, “I’ve always wondered where the word came from.”

 

“What? Unfuckingbelievable?”

 

“Yeah,” he grinned, “Was it his or your creation?”

 

I had to laugh, “I think it was a joined effort.” Then I got serious, this was probably going to be the only opportunity to ask, “Did you and Brian fuck?”

 

He straightened his shoulders, “You wouldn’t ask if you didn’t already know the answer.”

 

Did I ever tell you that I hated that smart mouth of his? This time was no exception. “What about Ethan?”

 

He frowned at me, “What about him? I told you we…“

 

“…I know you two broke up. But … a few days ago you were like the poster couple for Gay as Blazes and now … you’re just going to be Brian’s fuck-toy again?”

 

I saw him pale slightly and realized I’d hit below the belt. Instantly sorry that I had let my resentment get the better of me, I tried to apologize. “Justin-“

 

“No,” he shook his head, moved to the window. “You’re entitled to ask. And to tell the truth, I’ve asked myself the same question.”

 

“You have?” The boy was starting to surprise me. I hadn’t seen him for a while, or rather had tried to ignore him whenever we met – what had still been far too often for my taste, but I suddenly had the feeling that he’d grown a lot during the past months. 

 

“Oh yes. At first, I thought I was simply being a slut, but you want to know the truth? I love Brian. I’ve always loved him. Never stopped. And Ethan … Ethan is a great guy. You’d like him if you knew him better. He’s got a great sense of humor. We laughed a lot, and he fed me all the words I so desperately wanted to hear. It was … nice.” 

 

And I understood. Suddenly I understood. “But he wasn’t Brian.” How could I not understand? Sadly, I had to admit to myself that I had been at the exact same spot Justin was in today. Well, with the exception that Brian had never fucked me of course. And that he never loved me the way he obviously loved this blond kid.

 

“No, he wasn’t.” He turned and looked at me. “We wouldn’t have lasted. Even if Brian …,” he swallowed, “We wouldn’t have lasted long.”

 

“Probably not,” I agreed, thinking of David. He’d been a great guy, too. The sex had been fabulous. But I was still hung up on Brian, on the idea that maybe we might make it work someday. So I came back … only to see him fall apart over Justin’s injury, then fall for the blond in a way I never thought possible, while I fell head over heels for a guy who was HIV-positive. Talk about irony. But now that I have Ben and know what true love really feels like – everyone, even Brian, pales in comparison. I finally realized that my dreams about Brian were nothing than an overgrown teenager fantasy. He had been my hero for so long. It was hard to let go. 

 

I looked at the boy who held Brian’s heart, “So what happens now? You’re going back to the way it was.”

 

Justin was quiet for a moment, then said very gently, “He said he loves me.”

 

“I mean, you loved him before and -,” And then the words sank in. I felt my eyes widen, my knees go weak, and I had to reach for the counter to keep myself on my feet. “He … what?” My voice was barely above a whisper. It wasn’t as if this were news to me. I was well aware of the fact that Justin was much more to Brian than just a convenient fuck, although only after Justin walked out with Ethan did I found out how deep this love went. But to find out that Brian had actually said the words … it floored my like nothing else could.

 

I saw compassion enter Justin’s eyes. “I know this might be a shock for you. Believe me, it was one for me, too. But it’s also … it’s all I ever wanted. And it’s not just words for him. He means it.”

 

For several minutes I didn’t know what to say. But then I managed to pull myself together, and for the first time I didn’t feel resentment where Justin was concerned, but instead, worry. Returning to my task of filling cups, I shot him a glance over my shoulder, “You realize that when Brian gets his memory back he might revert to his former self?” I knew this would probably hurt the kid, but I simply couldn’t let him live in a dreamland. I knew only too well what it meant to wake up hard and fast. 

 

“What?” Justin smiled slightly, “Are you giving me the ‘don’t expect too much’ speech now?”

 

“I just-“ 

 

“It’s not necessary, believe me. I’ve been through all this. And I’ve had to struggle to keep my doubts at bay…which is hard. I’ve lived with the old Brian for almost two years.” He heard me snort and amended, “Okay, so it was off and on, but I was around all the time. I know him. Or so I thought. But now – bit by bit – he’s revealing this other personality to me and it’s –“

 

“Justin,” I let warning infuse my voice, “He’s lost his memory. He doesn’t even know who he is for fuck’s sake.” I pointed with my thumb over my shoulder, “This is not Brian out there-“

It was his turn to interrupt me again, “But it is,” he insisted. “This is Brian Kinney. Just a side of him he preferred not to show. I’ve searched all over the Internet. All the articles I’ve found about amnesia, state that people don’t change their personality, they just … show it differently.” Before I could get a word in, he hurried on. “And it’s logical if you think about it. Brian always cared for the people he … loved. Think how he pushed you towards David. He made himself look like a jerk. But afterwards he was a wreck. Believe me – I know. I’ve seen him. I even tried …,” he trailed off, blushed. 

 

I could imagine what exactly he was talking about. 

 

“Or,” he was on a roll, and I was wondering if he was trying to convince me, or himself, that what we’re seeing now was just something Brian had hidden so far, “when he gave up his parental rights? You have no idea what that cost him. And then he behaved as if it wasn’t a big deal. We all guessed he was doing it to piss off Guillaume. And maybe pissing of the guy was part of the whole thing, but I think an even bigger part of him did it because he saw how unhappy Linds was without Mel. And he loves Lindsay.”

 

“I know he does.” I had to give him that. He was pretty insightful for a boy his age. Fuck – he was pretty insightful, period. “Still, I want-“

 

I couldn’t deliver my words because at that very moment we heard a loud crash coming from the living-room. Justin and I exchanged a quick glance, then moving in sync, we stormed back, only to find Brian standing next to the bookshelf holding a picture frame in a trembling hand. His eyes were wide, unfocused, and his breath was coming in short gasps. 

 

Ben was holding up his hands, “I did nothing, I swear.”

 

My first impulse was to rush over to Brian, but Justin’s hand on my arm held me back. Shooting the boy what had to be a murderous glare – as much as I could shoot them anyway – I gritted my teeth. “He needs help!”

 

Justin simply looked at me. “He’s remembering,” he stated. “It’s the way it works.”

 

“You’re telling me had these …,” I gestured at my best friend who was pale as a ghost, “attacks have happened before.”

 

“Karen says it’s completely normal,” he stated quietly. 

 

“Karen …,” then I remembered it was the name of Brian’s therapist. Fuck. She thought seeing a person suffer like that was normal? What kind of masochistic freak was the woman? “But-“

 

“Justin’s been with him all the time now,” Ben said from the other side of the room, as always finding the source of my anger. I swear the guy could read me like a book. Of course a big part of my resentment was due to the fact that Justin was the one Brian relied on – not me. I was over my childhood fantasies about Brian, but that didn’t mean I was ready to give him up as my best friend. And neither could I forget the way he’d been, after Justin had walked out on him. 

 

“Brian?”

 

My head snapped around and I watched Justin approach the older man, his voice soft and gentle. “Brian, can you hear me?”

 

I saw Brian’s eyes flicker, but he still held the picture. Was still breathing as if he’d just come from a serious workout. And then he started to talk, his voice hoarse and very low. “I was the new kid in school and they all … I thought they all hated me. But not Mikey.” A quick smile came and went, “We became best friends. I even tried to jerk him off once … over Patrick Swayze of all people.” He laughed at the memory and I felt warmth flood my heart. It was one of my fondest moments, too. “But … fuck … then his mom stormed in, and I’ll be fucked if she didn’t see exactly what we’d been doing. But she played it cool and simply told us dinner was ready. God, I loved the woman.”

 

He stopped, and I could see the trembling in his hand had lessened, that his eyes were more focused now. But then – without warning – his head jerked back as if he’d been slapped, and he paled even more.

 

“Brian?” Justin reached out and touched him, his flat palm resting against the older man’s back. “What is it.”

 

Brian swayed for a moment – or so I thought – before to my amazement I realized he was leaning into the touch, seeking comfort from it. “He … hit me.” Again his head reeled back.

 

“Hit you?” Justin moved even closer, his other hand touching Brian as well. “Who hit you?”

 

“My father,” came the low response, layered with suppressed anger. I closed my eyes, remembering all the times I had seen the bruises on him, or the day he’d refused to play soccer because of a limp. He’d fallen over his mother’s suitcase, he claimed. As if I would believe that shit. But I kept my mouth shut and our friendship intact. Brian never wanted me to see how much it cost him, how much the way his parents treated him hurt. And I suddenly wondered if Justin hadn’t hit the nail on the head by saying that Brian simply kept parts of his personality closed up. If you didn’t open up, nothing could pass through that armor. Pain wouldn’t get through. But neither would love.

 

“Your father hit you?” Justin’s arms were lying around Brian’s waist, his head leaning against the back. 

 

“Yes,” the older man nodded. “All the time. He didn’t even need a reason. He drank. And he hit. He also hit my mother. She tried to help me … at first.” To my shock I saw tears well up in his eyes. “They never wanted me, you know,” he confessed, talking to Justin now. It was pretty clear he’d forgotten Ben and I were even in the room. And strangely enough, seeing them like this, so closely entwined that it was hard to see where one ended and the other began, I didn’t feel the familiar jealousy and resentment. Instead I found myself watching them with growing fascination. 

 

“I know,” Justin whispered. “I know. It’s okay, Brian. Just let it go. I’m here to catch you.”

 

I only realized I was crying too, when gentle fingertips started to wipe my tears away. Looking up I found myself caught up in Ben’s loving gaze. I wrapped my arms around him, secure in his embrace, his body infusing heat into mine that seemed to have chilled several degrees, and let my tears fall. 

 

“I know it hurts,” I heard Ben whisper in my ear and cried even harder. 

 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” came Justin’s voice again. I looked over and could see them standing in each others embrace, much like Ben and I. “It’s okay.”

 

“I only wanted them to love me. But they never did,” Brian whispered.

 

“I know,” Justin replied softly. “But I do. I love you. Very much.”

 

The older man sniffled, “Me too. I love you too.”

 

And the oddest thing happened. I didn’t mind him saying the words. Instead I felt warm, and yes, as strange as it may sound, happy. I raised my head and cupped Ben’s face with one hand, “I love you, you know that, right?”

 

In response he simply smiled and kissed me in the most loving way I could imagine.


	7. Reason to Believe

Surprisingly enough we made it through the brunch with Mikey and Ben, and I even managed to joke with him the way I remembered. Still it was strange … talking to a guy who’s supposed to be your best friend, when years of that friendship are missing from your mind. When an awkward silence comes up, because he suddenly realizes that something we shared is gone. Thanks to Justin, the moments never lasted long. He always found a way to interfere, and in the process made the whole morning a, not-so-bad experience.

We said our goodbyes a little after two, and went back to the loft where I fell into a deep sleep, more exhausted than I’d thought possible. When I woke up around midnight, Justin and I made love once again, starving for each other as if we had been apart for months instead of me being out of it for a few days. We fell asleep in a tangle of limbs, Justin lying half on   
top of me, but I didn’t mind. On the contrary, the feel of his body so close to mine made me feel safe and loved, something I needed badly after what I found out in the morning.

It was suddenly crystal clear. I could see my father’s face, the tears in my mother’s eyes. My sister…always crying, always running from the room, living in her own, in a world where she pretended violence wasn’t part of our everyday life. The way Debbie tried to help, the horror in her eyes when she saw I was black and blue once more. But as if she knew that I wouldn’t   
have appreciated her pity, she was never obvious in her affection. Instead she let me stay in her house whenever I wanted, let me participate at family celebrations, made me feel welcome. This woman – and her son – probably were the reason I made it out of there with my sanity intact.

*

I woke to bright sun shining on me and the noise of Justin making breakfast. Yawning and stretching first, plus the necessary run for the bathroom, I padded towards the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, running a hand through my tousled hair. “Morning, Sunshine,” I said casually, then froze for a moment. “Do I usually call you that?”

Justin handed me a cup of coffee, “Actually, it was Debbie who created the nickname. But you used it …,” he hesitated for a tiny moment, “from time-to-time. You remember Debbie, right?”

“It fits,” I commented, sipping from the coffee that was just right. If he wasn’t such a great artist, Justin might have made a fortune as a chef. “This is good. And to answer your question, I do remember her. She’s Mikey’s mother.”

He beamed, and I suddenly had the oddest feeling that he hadn’t done that a lot around me lately.

“Brian?”

Seeing him look at me with concern, I shook off the weirdness that had seized me for a moment, and gave him a reassuring smile, “I’m fine. Just …,” I saw him frown, “Justin, it’s okay. It’s nothing.”

“You sure?”  
God, he could be infuriating sometimes, but so lovable the next minute, making you either want to kick or kiss him. “Yes, nurse Taylor,” I joked. “I feel good. I’d say I feel perfect, but that might result in a withdrawing of your pampering. And I’m much too comfortable to risk that.”

He stuck out his tongue at me, reminding me of other times where I’d become very intimate with that particular part of his body, then turned away to mix something that smelled like food. “What are you cooking?”

“Oh, just scrambled eggs,” he replied, wiggling his ass. It seemed I was recovering because the kid was getting cocky already.

“You think I can’t resist that, huh?” I asked. Deliberately turning away from him, I walked back into the bathroom, leaving the door open when I stepped into the shower. Over my shoulder I saw him watching me, and grinned. “Care to join me?”

*

We ate breakfast around noon, not particularly caring about the lateness. We spent the afternoon leisurely, just sitting around, listening to music, going through art books Justin wanted me to see. He got excited about different styles and his eyes lit up when he saw I showed real interest. For a moment I was transported back to the moment in Karen’s office and the words ‘you never told me that’, but the mood was too relaxed and Justin’s smile too contagious to let dark thoughts interfere.

Around eight we got hungry, and I offered to get something from the little Vietnamese takeout I had seen on the corner. A deep frown settled on Justin’s face, but I convinced him that I needed to go out on my own, sooner or later, and that a trip around the corner to get food would be the perfect start. Finally – his blue eyes still filled with worry – he gave in. I   
kissed him at the door, then took the steps, feeling as if I’d just been sitting around for weeks.

With a grin on my face and a tune in my head – something that Justin had played on the CD all fucking day long and now couldn’t get out of my head – I entered the little takeout restaurant, trying to remember what my lover had ordered when a guy stepped in front of me.

Sure that he’d run into me rather than the other way around, I still thought it would be best to avoid any confrontation. So all I said was sorry and all I wanted was to move on, when I felt his hand on my arm.

“Hey Kinney, don’t you remember me? We hooked up a few months ago at the Baths. How about a repeat performance some day?”

Staring at him in total confusion, I tried to understand what he said.

Did he actually say we hooked up a few months ago?

No way. I was with Justin. Why should I …

And – the Baths? What the hell was that? Why would I go to a bath when I had a perfectly functioning shower?

Rubbing a hand over my face, I peered at the guy. He wasn’t bad looking. About my height and my age, black hair, brown eyes, even features. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told him, and once again tried to move past him.

“What?” His hand on my arm tightened almost painfully and from the sound of his voice I had no problem recognizing his anger. “You’re too good for me now? I’m only a good fuck in the dark and when the lights are on you pretend not to know me?”

I staggered back, heard the voice of the little Vietnamese guy behind the counter who seemed to know me, “Mr. Kinney, are you alright?”

But I couldn’t respond. All I could do was stare at the man in front of me, his face still as unfamiliar as it had been.

“No smart response?” He laughed, “I have to say you’re slacking off, Kinney. I never thought I’d see the day.”

I wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. This man knew my name, he obviously knew me – or didn’t he? Finally I did find my voice, “You’re making this up,” I told him. “Why are you doing this? Is this some kind of sick joke?” I looked around, hoping against hope that Justin had followed me. I needed him…badly.

The man shook his head, disbelief entering his eyes, “I think you’re the one making jokes. I jerked you off Buffy! I jerked you off so hard you screamed loud enough to be heard at the other end of Pittsburgh.”

I felt my heart start to hammer, my lungs constricting.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t move.

I saw black and white flashes starting in front of my eyes.

And all I could think was that this was not true. This could never be true. I wouldn’t go and let some stranger … there was Justin who loved me, and I most certainly did love him back. I would never do that to him.

“You’re lying,” I insisted, my voice sounding strange to my own ears. “You’re lying.”

And suddenly it seemed to register with him that I wasn’t making this up. That I really didn’t know him. “What’s the matter with him?” the man asked the guy behind the counter. “Is he sick or something?”

“Cannot say,” the guy replied, and I suddenly remembered his name was Sam. At least that’s what he wanted the customers to call him. “Mr. Kinney, not seen for days. Usually he come two time a week, but not this one. Didn’t see anything, no sir, not a thing of Mr. Kinney I did see.”

Dismissing the answer the man turned back to me. “You okay, Kinney?”

I wanted to answer, but I couldn’t. The black and white flashes became so bad I could hardly see. My head started to pound as if someone was sitting in there with a hammer, slamming away, and my ears went deaf from the blood that was rushing through my veins. I felt myself sway, and reached for something to hold on. It was an arm.

His arm.

Letting it go as if it was on fire, disgusted by the thought of touching this … man, I took a step back, then another one and crashed into one of the high stools next to the counter. Staggering away from it, I shook my head, my throat dry and aching.

I blinked my eyes. Why couldn’t I see? Blinked again.

But there was nothing but black and white, coming and going, coming and going.

“Do you think we should call someone?”

“Nobody there. Mr Kinney alone.”

I heard the words but they came from far away, didn’t sound real to me. There’s Justin I wanted to scream, but nothing came.

Nausea started to rise and I bent forward trying to fight it, felt him reach for me again and shouted, “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.” Heard myself repeat the words again and again.

And then I ran. I had no idea of direction, but I knew I needed to get away. So I ran, straight ahead, then turned left, then right – knowing nothing, not wanting to know anything, just trying to outrun what was starting to form in my mind.

The black and white was gone, but now I saw images, flashes. Of people. Men. Hundreds of them. Saw faces, heard voices. Overlapping each other, rising to a loud chorus in my ears.

The Baths?

The Baths?

Again and again the word was playing in my mind, but I couldn’t make sense of it.

My breath was coming in quick, painful gasps now, but the images kept on coming. More men. And more. And more.

And feelings. I could feel them moving over me, sucking me, entering me.

Oh God – what was happening to me?

Who were these people? How did I know them?

Was I raped? Had I tried to commit suicide because of it?

And where was Justin? Why wasn’t there any memory of Justin?

I felt my stomach turn, felt the cake Justin had forced into me making its way up, and I stopped, retching all over my clothes and the pavement. But I didn’t care. As soon as everything was out I simply started running again.

But the feelings were still there. Their hands on my body. Their saliva and semen on my skin.

I felt dirty and ran faster.

It was as if the walls were shouting at me.

DIRTY – DIRTY – DIRTY

* 

I had to stop, my muscles hurting badly, I could barely stay on my feet. Reaching for a wall, I leaned my shoulder against it, sweat dripping from my forehead, wetting my shirt. Wiping it away with a trembling hand I tried to find out where I was, but couldn’t. Every time I tried to read a street name I saw another man, another image. They were coming in such rapid speed now I had to close my eyes for a moment. But it never slowed them down.

Feeling my muscles start to relax, I began walking again. I couldn’t stand still. I had to move – maybe if I moved enough I would outrun them after all.

And then the next image slammed into my brain. I felt as if a blade was slicing through my intestines. The pain was so intense I had to gasp. It’s like being ripped wide open.

The way his cock could.

It’s huge and angry and waiting for my attention. I saw a hand grabbing it. And I –

I stumbled backwards, the wall halting my unconscious try to escape. Flattening my palms against it, I looked around, trying to find help from anything – anyone …

There’s no doubt – it was my hand. I could see the cowry shell bracelet with crystal clarity.

But – what was I doing, holding that man’s-

Once again the image changed. I saw myself standing in the shower. The school. My gym teacher’s face in complete ecstasy.

I swallowed. I could remember that special occasion. It was the first time I actually touched another man. And it was awesome. And scary as hell. Afterwards I went into the bathroom and threw up, was sick for the rest of the day. I never told anyone. Not even Mikey. He’d never understand anyway. 

But then another knowledge settled in my mind.

If the scene in the shower was real – what about the others?

Could they be real, too?

Was it possible that I knew all these men? That I’d been intimate with them? All of them?

My mind refused to accept that. I refused to accept that. If it was true, what did it make me?

And – oh God – what about Justin?

“NO!” I heard my own scream echoing through the night, and once again started to run. Faster and faster my heels hit the ground, until I rounded a corner and ran head on into someone.

“Fucker!” the person shouted but I couldn’t make out the face or even if it was male or female. I didn’t risk a glance, just kept on going. Then stumbled when my strength faded, my palm keeping contact to the walls, I tried to find my way through the night.

*

In the end I found myself in a dark alley, a homeless man lying at one side only covered by a newspaper. I didn’t even look at him, just went past him into the corner. My strength finally gone, I sunk to the ground, drawing my upraised knees to my body, wrapping my arms around them.

And still the images were coming.

Men. And more men. And even more.

Some of them were dressed. Others were naked. A few were wearing strange clothing.

And I saw myself.

Fucking them. Getting my dick sucked by them. Going down to serve them.

I shuddered, feeling cold to the bone, even though it was still warm outside, while in my gut, in my heart everything had turned to ice.

But the images still kept on coming. Like a lightshow they shot through my head, one after the other. I could feel my pupils dilate, heard a voice but it seemed far away. I couldn’t react anyway. I was caught in this nightmare of faces and I couldn’t find a way out. I tried to take a breath, but my lungs seemed constricted. I tried to get on my feet, but fell back down.

Help I wanted to scream, but who would hear me?

Who would want me?

How could Justin even look at me?

How could he love me?

I heard a muffled sound and realized it had been me making it.

It was so cold.

Why couldn’t I get warm? 

What was warm?

I rolled to my side, pulled my knees closer to my body, the trembling almost unbearable now.

My last conscious thought was of Justin – I wanted Justin.

But how could he ever bear to touch me again?


	8. Reason to Believe

I started to worry about ten minutes after Brian had left the loft. How long could a fucking trip to a corner takeaway last, anyway? I walked over to the vast windows staring into the falling darkness, hoping to get a glimpse of him. Maybe he was on his way back already.

Shaking my head over the uneasiness – the old Brian would’ve never let me get away with that kind of attitude – I went back to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water. The phone rang, distracting me temporarily.

“Hey, what’s up?”

I grinned, “Hey, Daph. Haven’t heard from you in a while. How did you know I was here?”

Silence for a moment, then, “I called Ethan.”

I grimaced, “Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch,” she confirmed. “He was pretty pissed. But between all the swearing and self-pity I managed to find out where you were. What happened? Ethan said something about a suicide.”

I hesitated, then reminded myself this was Daphne. My best friend. The only one I’d trusted with all of my secrets. “Yeah, Brian … Michael found Brian in his loft. With an empty bottle of booze and an equally empty pill-bottle.”

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it. But Brian-”

 

“I know. I couldn’t believe it either, at first. But it seems true.”

“So you rushed to his bedside?”

I could hear the doubt in her voice and sighed, “Debbie called. And I just had to go and see how he was. Only to find out that he was suffering from amnesia.”

“Oh, shit!”

It was typical for Daphne to react like this. I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension I’d been feeling slowly draining away. I sat down on the sofa and relaxed, while telling her about the events of the last days. When we finished the call I was still smiling and feeling good in a way I hadn’t for a long time.

*

Five minutes later I was close to being a fucking wreck. There was still no sign of Brian. I was tempted to go after him, but knew it would hurt him to think I didn’t trust him.

Shit. Why hadn’t I insisted on accompanying him or even better, why hadn’t I gone instead? I should have known Brian wasn’t up to it yet.

And then the phone rang again, grabbing it with trembling fingers, I answered. “Yes?”

“Is this Kinney’s apartment?”

I frowned at the unfamiliar voice, my heart starting to pound, “Who are you?”

“I’m Gary. But that’s not really important. Are you a friend?”

Who the fuck … ? “What the fuck do you want? Are you a trick? He isn’t here. He doesn’t do tricks anymore.”

I heard the hesitation from the other side. “You’re his lover? The blond twink?”

“Asshole,” I shouted and was about to slam the receiver down when I heard him talk again.

“Wait … look, I’m sorry … it’s … I just saw Kinney. And I … I didn’t mean anything by it I swear…”

My mouth went dry with panic, “What happened?”

“I asked him if we could hook up again…”

My stomach clenched in pain.

“… just took off.”

The blood rushing through my ears, I asked him to repeat that. “What?”

“I said,” he replied patiently, “that he took off like a bullet. He was really acting weird. So … I thought I’d try his loft.”

Took off? My fingers tightened around the receiver, knuckles turning white.

“Where did he go?”

“Don’t know. Just ran out of the joint. As if someone was after him.” A pause, “Hey, kid, is something wrong with the guy? He said I was lying when I told him we knew each other from the Baths.”

The receiver fell from my shaking hands and I had to sit down for a moment. My heart was pounding so hard, for a moment I was afraid it would jump right from my chest. It was like living through the night of Brian’s attempted suicide, all over again. I didn’t know what to do next, what could be done. And then – as if on autopilot – I grabbed the keys and stormed from the loft.

*

I was breathing hard when I reached the takeaway a few minutes later. “Sam,” I noticed the guy behind the counter. “Was Mr. Kinney here?”

“Justin,” his face lit up. “Long time no seeing, huh?” His wrinkled face smiled, then darkened, “Yes, yes. Mr. Kinney here. Ask him if everything was fine, didn’t answer. Other man talking to him. Mr. Kinney not liking what other man says.”

I nodded, already knowing what he was talking about, when I saw a movement on the left side. The man causing it was coming from the bathroom and stopped when he saw me. “Taylor?”

I recognized him. Oh God, I recognized him. Knew him from the time when Brian and I were still together. Brian had fucked a priest, I had fucked him and then we had changed places. “It’s you,” I hissed, barely able to suppress my anger. I knew it was not fair, the man hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t known that Brian was suffering from amnesia.

“Hey look,” he said again, “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck,” I shouted, “I knew it was a bad idea, but he simply wouldn’t listen. Said he was fine.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

I glared at the man, my anger exploding, “That’s none of your damn fucking business. Get your fucking ass out of here – you’ve done enough for tonight.”

Raking my hands through my hair I tried contemplating what to do next.

“Mr. Kinney sick?”

I frowned at the cell phone in my hand, too confused to think clear. Sick? “What? Sam, what did you say?”

“Mr. Kinney look sick. Very pale. Looki like death when leaving.” His round face creased with concern.

“No,” I dismissed him, not having any energy left to deal with him, too. I was barely holding up as it was. All I could think was that Brian was out there somewhere. Alone. And probably haunted by memories he might not be able to deal with. What if he remembered his tricking? The countless men he’d been with. I knew he felt safe in our relationship. What if he found out that it didn’t really exist anymore? Or at least hadn’t at the time Brian had been in the hospital.

Leaving the carryout, I stopped on the sidewalk outside, sucking fresh air into my lungs. My eyes flickered around, hoping against hope to see him. Maybe he hadn’t gone far away. Maybe he was just sitting somewhere waiting for me to pick him up. God, how I wished that could be true.

Taking another deep breath, I finally remembered the cell phone in my hand, and staring at it for a second, I finally knew what I had to do.

*

With the help of everyone Brian and I knew, we went through every club, every bar, every corner Brian could have gone to – and came up with nothing. Lindsay, who had stayed home with Gus, had it taken upon herself to go through Brian’s address book and call all the numbers listed. Deb even called the cop she was dating.

I left a message on Karen’s voicemail, hoping she would call back soon. Brian could very well be in need of a therapist when we found him.

When we returned to the loft it was almost three in the morning and I was so tired I thought I’d sleep on the spot. But of course there was no way I could. Not with Brian still missing. Mom had tried to help by telling me Brian was a grown man after all and that he would know how to take care of himself. The problem was I had a hard time making myself believe it. She   
hadn’t seen Brian the last days, hadn’t watched him struggle with his memory flashes, hadn’t held him in her arms, crying like a lost little boy.

“I still can’t believe you let him leave on his own.”

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore Michael’s accusing gaze.

“Michael,” I looked up and saw Ben wrap an arm around his lover. “This won’t help anyone. I know you’re scared. But so is Justin.”

Shrugging the arm away, Mikey snorted and started to pace the loft. “We don’t have the slightest clue where he went. Does he even remember Pittsburgh? What if he gets lost-“

“God, can’t you shut up!”

I didn’t even realize it was me who had yelled the words. But when the room went quiet, I felt everyone stare at me. Debbie – her palms flattened against her chest – had tears in her eyes.

“Sunshine,” her lower lip was quivering. “I know this is hard for you, but it’s still Brian we’re talking about. The kid could take care of himself since I first met him.”

“She’s right,” Mel soothed, rubbing my shoulder.

Barely able to believe what I was hearing, I shook off her touch. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I turned away, stared once again out of the window. God, it was so dark out there. He was out there somewhere. Alone. Was he lost? Cold? Scared?

I wrapped my arms around my own middle, trying to hold the pain at bay. More to myself I said, “Brian’s changed. He isn’t the guy he was anymore. He doesn’t just suffer from amnesia – he’s … it’s as if all his walls are down.”

“Sunshine-“

“He’s right Ma,” came Michael’s grudging voice. “I saw them together. I saw Brian cry in Justin’s arms.”

“Justin, sweetie,” I felt Emmett step behind me, and gentle hands come to lay on my shoulders. “I believe you. But we’re going to find him. As soon as we’ve all had a cup of coffee we’re going out again and won’t come back until we know what happened.”

I sniffled slightly, warmed by the comfort, but too frozen by fear to really appreciate it. I wanted to say thanks, when Michael’s cell started to ring. I turned instantly and saw him flipping it open. All eyes were directed at him when he answered.

“Yes … yes … you have?” His head came up, the joyous expression in his eyes unmistakable. “Where?”

He started to smile and I felt the air leave my lungs, unconsciously slumping against Emmett whose arms came around me. “It’s okay sweetie,” I heard him whisper. “It’s okay. He’ll be back soon.”

“Oh … okay. We’ll be there.” Michael shut down the phone and looked at me. “That was Mom’s cop. They found Brian. He’s been arrested. They thought he was drunk because he was babbling unintelligible. He seems okay, but they want us to come.” He was already grabbing his jacket, when Ben held him back.

“Don’t you think Justin should...“

Michael shook off his hand, “Of course I wasn’t going alone.” He gave me an impatient glance, “You coming?”

*

On our way to the jail I left another message on Karen’s voicemail, then stared straight ahead while Michael did his best to copy Brian’s driving. But I didn’t mind – all I wanted was to get there as fast as possible to see with my own eyes that he was okay.

Horvath, waiting for us in front of the entrance, looked like death warmed over.

“You look like shit,” Michael commented, and I could see that he forced himself to shake the other man’s hand. They still hadn’t really settled their differences. Michael had grudgingly agreed to keep out of his mother’s relationship with the cop, but that didn’t mean the two of them would be friends or even friendly acquaintances any time soon.

“Thanks,” Horvath grimaced, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “Not that you look any better.”

“Yeah, well, my best friend was missing.” Michael nodded at me. “Can we see him now?”

The cop gave me a quick once over, “Sunshine, right? You’re the one Debbie calls Sunshine.”

“Uh -,” I was a little taken aback that he remembered me, then decided it had to be a cop thing. “Yeah. But my real name is Justin. Justin Taylor.”

“So you’re the one he’s been asking for.” Horvath turned towards the door, expecting us to follow. Over his shoulder he continued, “He looks pretty worn out.” At my gasp, he hurried to explain, “Not as if he’s been beaten. But … well, you’ll see yourself soon.”

Giving Michael a quick glance, I asked, “Did you find him yourself?”

“No,” the cop shook his head, “I just spread the word that he was missing and suffering from amnesia. One of the uniformed cops remembered that he’d arrested someone he thought was drunk. So I came here and recognized Mr. Kinney – but barely.”

“B-barely?” I stammered, feeling my heart jump in my throat.

Horvath sighed, “As I said … he’s … ah, here we are.” He pointed at a short hallway leading to three single cells. “He’s in the second on the right. They had him with another … but they moved him when I told them I knew him – and that he was quite probably not drunk.”

“Thanks,” I said, then hurried towards the cell, not caring if Michael was following or not. All I wanted was to get Brian. But when I finally saw him, I thought I was going to pass out. He was lying not on the bed, but in the corner, curled up in a tight ball, his knees drawn to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, the face hidden from view – and he was shivering   
uncontrollably.

“Brian,” I whispered, grabbing the bars, rattling them. “Brian!”

I felt someone stepping behind me, before a lock was opened. “You can go in. He hasn’t responded to anyone, so far,” Horvath encouraged me.

“Oh fuck.” I heard Michael come up too and could see his first intention was to rush to his best friend’s side, but he caught himself and touched my back. “You go.” The words sounded as if he’d torn them from his soul – and he probably had. “It’s you he needs now. Go.”

Only then I realized how terrified I was. What was I going to do? What if he wouldn’t respond to me either? Right now he looked more like a scared animal than a man. A man who’d once been the embodiment of confidence and success. I felt my heart break, felt tears well up in my eyes, and took a first step into his direction, cautious not to scare him any more.

“Brian?” I said his name quietly, then took another step.

In response he curled even more tightly into himself.

“Shit,” I heard Michael whisper from the door. “What the hell happened to him?”

“Nobody knows,” Horvath answered. “They just found him in an alley. Curled up like this behind a dumpster. From the report I read, he was alternatively saying the name Justin and something nobody could understand.”

I wanted to weep. My heart certainly did. “Brian, it’s me, Justin.” And from the wetness I was feeling on my cheek it wasn’t just my heart.

His head jerked and he buried it deeper between his knees and chest. But it was the only visible reaction.

Moving as if in slow motion, I crouched down beside him, not daring to touch yet. And then I heard the voice – and felt such a flood of relief, I thought I’d pass out.

“Let me through. My name is Dr. Karen Dawson, I’m Mr. Kinney’s therapist. His partner, Mr. Taylor left a message on my voice-mail.” The next moment she was at the door. “Justin,” she nodded at Horvath and Michael, then slowly walked over to me and Brian. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you earlier. I was out of town for the weekend and just now got back. I should’ve left you a message.”

I gave her a grateful smile. I had cursed her before, but now I was just glad she was here. I’d been so afraid to do something stupid, to make things worse for Brian. But I trusted her – and I had a feeling Brian did, too. “Hey,” I said.

“I called the loft and someone named Emmett told me you were here. I came as fast as I could. Can you tell me what happened?”

My eyes worriedly flickered to Brian, but she touched my arm and when I looked at her she shook her head. “It’ll do him good to just hear our voices, especially yours. Keep it low while you speak.”

Keeping my eyes on my lover, I said, “He … he wanted to get us dinner. I didn’t … I didn’t want to let him go at first, but he felt great the whole weekend. Well after … he remembered more yesterday, when we were at Michael’s.” I nodded over to the man hovering in the doorway. “That’s Michael Novotny. Brian’s best friend.”

“Nice to finally meet you. Brian talks about you.” She turned back to me, “So he went to get food. What happened next?”

I shrugged, biting my lower lip. “I don’t know. Fuck, I should’ve gone with him. I should’ve known-“

“Beating yourself up about this won’t help him,” Karen interrupted me quietly. “And it doesn’t matter anyway.”

I nodded and noticed that Brian’s head had come up a little as if he was listening to us. “A friend of mine called, we talked. And then I realized Brian had been gone for half an hour. I was about to follow him when the phone rang and … I’m not sure what really happened. It seems he met someone … a trick … I know him, too. We…,” God this was so hard. How was I going to explain this to Karen? “When Brian and I … months ago, we used to go to the Baths – once or twice a month.”

“The Baths?”

“It’s a bathhouse for queers,” Michael jumped to my aid. “At least that’s what they tell you when you’re straight.”

From the corner of my eye I saw the therapist nod. “So you went there to meet … other gay men?”

“Yeah,” I let out a long breath. “Brian … our relationship wasn’t monogamous then. Brian … the old Brian …,” I wanted her to understand this completely, wanted her to see that he wasn’t the old Brian anymore, “he needed the thrill. He was... ”

“An asshole,” Michael interrupted me, then sighed. “Sorry, but it’s the truth. That doesn’t mean we didn’t love him. Because we did – Justin’s the worst of all.”

I couldn’t suppress the chuckle that escaped my lips. 

“Okay, so this guy recognized Brian.”

I nodded, “Yeah. From what he told me, Brian didn’t. And he freaked.” I looked back at my lover. “Do you …,” I swallowed, “do you think he remembered the tricks?”

“Who knows. We’ll find out soon. Why don’t you try touching him? Move slowly, talk to him.”

Taking a deep breath, I reached out. “Brian – it’s Justin. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

His eyes flickered at that, but he turned his head away. I saw his lips move, but couldn’t understand what he said.

“Brian? Did you say something?” Karen knelt beside me, “Brian. It’s Karen Dawson. I’m here with Justin. You’re safe, Brian. Justin’s going to touch you now.”

She gave me an encouraging nod and I put a hand on his shoulder. Brian jerked away, but another nod of the therapist kept me going. I let my palm rest on his back for a moment, much the same way I had done it yesterday at Mikey’s, then let it wander in circles, trying to soothe him with my touch. “Brian? It’s Justin.”

“N-n-no.”

It was hard to understand, with his voice rough and barely above a whisper, but we still did. Adding my other hand, I let my arms slip around him as far as it was possible in his current position. “Yes, it’s me, Justin.”

“No.” This time I had no problem understanding the word.

And neither had Karen. “No?” she asked gently, “No – what?”

“Faces … so many faces,” Brian muttered, attempting once again to curl into himself. But because I was holding onto him he couldn’t. “No,” he said again, tried to shake me off. “Jus---tin. No.” It was as if saying my name was causing him more pain. My heart wept for him.

“I’m not going away, Brian,” I told him. “I’m here. And I’m staying.”

His head shook, jerked. “Too … many … don’t…”

“Don’t – what?” Karen urged.

For the first time Brian’s head came up, his eyes still averted, but we could see the frown on his face, the tear streaks on his cheeks. “Don’t … touch.”

“You don’t want us to touch you?” she asked, at the same time encouraging me with her eyes to do just that.

“D-dirty.”

That one word caused me to bite my lips so hard, I tasted blood, all the while tightening my hold on Brian. “It doesn’t matter, Brian,” I whispered. “Your smell doesn’t matter to me. We’ll get you home and into the shower... ”

The next moment I found myself shoved against Karen, heard her gasp of surprise, and Brian scrambled away from us into the other corner, then sat there, his knees still raised against his chest, his eyes tightly closed. “Don’t. Touch. Me,” he snarled, and for a moment he reminded me of the old Brian, who was trying to show a brave front while he was dying inside. He   
was trembling, his hands so tightly entwined, not only the knuckles, but the entire fingers were white. I wondered if he still could feel anything with them, if he could move them, disentangle them, even if he wanted.

“I never did what you wanted me to do,” I said simply, stood and walked over. For I moment I looked down, then knelt and reached for his hands.

His eyes popped open and I felt as if was punched right in the gut, could feel myself shudder at the pain I saw in them. A pain so deep, for a moment I felt I was drowning in it too. Seeking help I turned to Karen, who was watching me intently.

“Go on,” she encouraged, but I saw she had a hard time not to cry herself. How many patients had she seen like this? Not many, judging by the watery shine in her eyes. “Touch him.”

“No.” Brian uttered again, trying to scramble away, his escape prevented by the corner he was pressing himself in already.

“Yes,” I replied softly, but firmly, and slowly reached out to touch his hands, then gently pried his fingers apart. They were cold and lifeless and I instantly enclosed them in mine, not caring when he tried to pull them away.

“Jus---tin,” he said with great difficulty, “No.”

“Oh, yes. You’re not gonna hide from me,” I told him, blinking against the tears in my eyes, biting my lower lip. “We’re partners, remember.”

He shook his head, then turned it away again. “I’m not worth it,” he whispered. “Go.”

“No.” Holding his hands in one of my own, I gently touched his face, tracing the dark smudges on his cheeks. “I told you once, I was on to you. You’re not going to get rid of me. I love you.”

He jerked violently, trying his best to get away, but I held him, kept my hand on his face as he tried to escape my touch. “I love you,” I repeated, and again he tried his best to get away.

Following an inner voice I said it again. “I love you, Brian.”

“No … not love,” he retorted. “You don’t know what …,” he gulped and I saw him draw a deep breath, obviously in an attempt to collect himself. “… what I’ve done.”

I chuckled softly, “Of course I know. But I don’t care.”

Slowly his head came around, his eyes liquid pools of pain and disgust that was directed inward. “How can you not?”

“Because I love you. Don’t they say, love is blind?”

At that he made a sound somewhere between a laugh, a snort and a sob. “Not that blind.”

“What do you remember, Brian?” came Karen’s voice from behind my back.

“I can’t … can’t.” His eyes flickered to Michael, to Horvath, then found mine. “Don’t make me … Justin. I can’t tell.”

“I know,” I gave him a smile. Of course he couldn’t. Not with a cop standing by. Not in these surroundings. Over my shoulder I said, “He’s tired. We have to get him to the loft so he can sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow, right?”

“No problem,” Karen said immediately, and I heard her get up. “Are there papers to be signed?” she asked Horvath.

“No – everything’s ready. He can go whenever he wants.

“He wants to go now,” I declared and let go of Brian. Then I held out my hand.

Eyeing it warily for a moment, he finally grasped it and I helped him to stand. He swayed slightly, but when I wrapped my arm around his waist, he took a deep breath and managed several steps. Gratefully Horvath had left and Michael was leading the way towards the jeep.

“I’ll follow you to his loft,” Karen told us, nodding at her own red sports car. “It might be good if I’m there when he wakes up tomorrow.”

I smiled – relieved. “Thanks.” Steered Brian towards the jeep, pushed him into the back seat and climbed in after him. “See you there.” 

“You two okay?” Michael asked, giving us a look through the rear mirror while he backed the car out of the parking space.

I looked at Brian’s head that was resting on my shoulder, his arms wrapped around my waist now, he was holding onto me as if I were his lifeline. Kissing him on the forehead I gently pushed his bangs away, then kissed him again. “Not quite,” I told Mikey. “But we’re getting there.”


	9. Reason to Believe

When we reached the loft, Michael and Karen went up first to usher the whole gang out. Brian simply wasn’t fit to have them around right now. Hell, he’d done his best to ignore Michael was in the car with us over here.

He didn’t say anything, just hang between Michael and I like a ton load of bricks, when we steered him into the loft and into his bed. He stank of dirt and sweat, but I thought risking to wake him up with a shower was not a good idea right now. The sooner would fall asleep, the better. So we simply stripped him out of his clothes – he would probably burn them in the not so far future – and covered him. Karen checked on him one last time and then she and I made our way down in the living area, where Michael left us – Ben already waiting for him at the car – but not without insisting to call him if anything happened.

I offered Karen a drink, which she politely refused, but she asked if Brian and I would mind if she smoked. I grinned at her at that, and she offered me one, too. Treating myself to a glass of milk, I sat down opposite to her and for a while we did nothing but puff out smoke.

Finally she reached for the ashtray and gave me a long look. “I’m really sorry I was not available,” she said, fumbling for another cigarette. “And I don’t smoke – not anymore that is. I quit three months ago.”

I looked at her knowingly, “I feel like smoking forever right now.”

“Yeah,” she agreed exhaling slowly. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t anticipate anything like this. Well, I did … but not at this early stage of his recovery. My boss will have my ass.” She reached behind her head and loosened the knot in the back, the hair falling down over her shoulders. Inhaling another load of smoke, she held it for a moment before it came out in puffs.

I was about to get up and tell her she could sleep on the sofa for the rest of the night when I heard her mumble something, I couldn’t quite understand. “What?” I asked. “What did you say?”

She shook her head on a little laugh, that somehow seemed forced to me, and waved her hand, “Nothing. I just thought about something.” When she looked away, I thought we were done until the morning, but then she suddenly spoke. “Brian has changed a lot, hasn’t he?”

Frowning at her averted gaze, I tried to understand what was going on. Something just didn’t feel right here. It was the oddest thing. It wasn’t really obvious or anything. Just that I … I got this strange feeling, that there was something she wasn’t telling me. “Is there something I should know?” I asked.

“No,” her answer came without hesitation and maybe that was the reason I didn’t quite believe her. “Really there’s nothing to worry about.” She finally looked at me again. “I was just wondering. The way he was talking tonight. I can hardly believe the life he led before he …,” she trailed off, took another draw from her cigarette.

Instantly feeling I had to defend my lover, I raised my chin, “How he led his life is none of your fucking business. You’re his therapist and-“

She held up a hand, “Justin, I’m not judging him. I’m just trying to understand what he’s going through right now. From what I could see I’d say it’s pretty obvious that the encounter with his trick? …,” she looked at me for affirmation and when I nodded, she continued, “It obviously triggered this reaction. It’s a safe guess that he now remembers his obviously very active sex life. And from his current standpoint, it has to be quite a shock.” She sighed, took another drag. “No wonder he freaked.”

Suspicion having turned into worry during her speech, I bit my lower lip. “Will he be okay in the morning?” I knew it sounded stupid. Of course I didn’t expect Brian to be okay after tonight’s ordeal. What I really wanted to know was if she thought he’d be able to deal with it.

And fortunately she understood. Unfortunately she couldn’t help me. “I don’t know, Justin,” she said. “Nobody can say how the human mind works. That’s part of the whole problem where psychology is concerned. We still don’t understand half of what’s going on. Every case is different and-“

“He isn’t just a case,” I insisted, suddenly angry with her, with Brian, the whole fucking situation. She was a therapist, for fuck’s sake – and she couldn’t even tell me if my lover would still be himself in the morning? Thank you so fucking much for nothing. Glaring at her, I turned to stomp away, when her voice stopped me.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know that he’s not a number. He isn’t for me either. It’s just doctor’s talk, you know. It doesn’t mean anything. Don’t think that seeing Brian tonight left me unaffected.”

I instantly remembered her watery eyes at the police station, the way she’d crouched beside me and Brian, and sighed. “I know.” I rubbed my nape. “I think we’re all tired. Maybe we should sleep a while. You can stay on the couch.” I managed to grin at her over my shoulder, “It’s not bad. I’ve tried it occasionally.” Not that I really remembered it. After the first few times Brian never again insisted I’d sleep there.

She grinned back, even though her eyes seemed shadowed somehow. Once again I felt this … vibe that something wasn’t quite right, but I was too tired to pay any attention to it. Instead I went into the bedroom, then returned with a blanket. “Here,” I held it out to her. “Hope that’s okay.”

She laughed slightly, “Thanks. And I’m sure of it. I’ve had it worse.”

Again this … it wasn’t really uneasiness, but the way she said it, the way she turned away from me. Something was definitely odd here.

Or maybe I was just dead on my feet.

Shaking my head, I climbed back into the bedroom, stripped my clothes and slipped under the covers. Before sleep claimed me I felt Brian’s arms slip around me and his body curl to my back. I dreamt with a smile on my face.

*

I woke up to an empty bed in the morning and had forgotten all about those vibes I had felt from Karen a few hours ago. Rubbing my eyes I heard voices drifting to my ears. They were low and I couldn’t make out the words, but had no problems recognizing Brian and Karen talking to each other. Grabbing my pants from the side I took a short trip to the bathroom, before walking down the stairs to find the therapist and my lover whose hair was still slightly wet from a recent shower sitting at the counter, sipping from steaming coffee cups.

Karen looked up when she saw me and smiled, “Good Morning, Justin.”

“Morning,” I replied, then slipped my arms around Brian and kissed him on the shoulder, inhaling the fresh scent that drifted through the shirt to my nose. To my surprise I felt him stiffen under my touch, but he didn’t pull away. “Hey, you were gone when I woke up.”

He stiffened even more, and I could almost physically feel him withdraw from me. His voice was curt when he said, “I needed a shower. I was reeking like a dumpster.”

Not sure what to say to that, I simply chose to ignore it, let go of him and walked to the fridge to pour myself a glass of orange juice, feeling Brian’s eyes on my back the whole time. I wasn’t really surprised at his attitude, had even expected him to be different this morning. Still, the way he’d stiffened let a quick bolt of panic rush through me.

Forcing a smile on my face I turned back to them, “So, what were you talking about before I came down?”

Brian’s eyes flickered to his coffee. “I asked Karen what happened last night. I wasn’t all that clear about it.”

“Oh,” I sipped, “I see.” Not sure how to continue I looked at the therapist, hoping she would know what to say.

“We were talking about Brian’s memory flashes last night. The reason why he took off,” she explained calmly and ignored the glare her patient shot her through lowered lashes.

When nobody was inclined to offer any further information, I raised my brows, “And?”

“And – nothing,” Brian snapped. “I remembered. Everything. The men. The tricks.” He slammed his empty cup on the counter, hard enough to break it, got up and walked towards the other end of the loft. Keeping his back to us, he said. “What I really can’t understand is why you’re still here? How the fuck can you stay with a guy who behaves that way. Who doesn’t fucking care he’s hurting you.”

My heart breaking at the pain in his voice, I followed him, “Brian-“

He stepped away when I tried to slip my arms around him, and shook his head, “What are you? A masochistic freak? An angel? How can you even contemplate touching me?” He whirled around all of a sudden, startling me with the rage I saw in his eyes, “How can you tell me you love me?” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me, then let go and held his hand in front of my face, “You see those? Do you know how…,” his voice broke, and he visibly tried to pull himself together, “how many …” again his voice failed him and he quickly turned away.

I could see him taking shuddering breaths and had to bite my lower lips to keep from crying. Oh God, Brian, I thought.

“Brian?” Only then I realized Karen was standing beside me.

I heard him sniffle, “Yeah?”

“Justin doesn’t think you’re dirty.”

Brian laughed harshly, “Then he has to be blind and dumb and I think he’s neither.”

“Brian-,” I started, but Karen put a hand on my arm, holding me back, speaking herself instead.

“Brian, I want you to think about this. Do you love Justin?”

Another harsh laugh, “Not that it matters anymore, but yeah.”

“If Justin would’ve done all those things … the tricks … would that make you love him any less?”

“He wouldn’t do something like that. He isn’t me.” He swallowed visibly, and I couldn’t help the tears running down my face. Even though I had somehow expected this to happen, it was still almost unbearable to watch. Brian wasn’t the man anymore he’d been. He couldn’t just snap his walls back up and block the pain. He was open to it now … and it showed.

“But if,” Karen insisted, “Would it change your feelings for him?”

When he didn’t answer, I stepped forward, “Brian?”

“No.” It was barely a whisper, but it made me ache for him. 

“Well,” the therapist smiled, “Then you’ve got your answer.”

I was about to reach out and touch him, when he whirled around. “That’s no answer. It’s bullshit,” he hissed. “Justin would never do such a thing. He wouldn’t fuck everyone he could. It’s just not who he is. So we’re not talking about fact, but of maybes and that’s completely fucked.”

Leaving us at the window, he went back to the kitchen and poured himself another cup of coffee. “And it’s not really the question here,” he said after a moment. “What I really want to know is what kind of guy I am that I have no problems sticking my dick into God knows where, that I can’t even really remember the men, that they’re nothing but nameless faces to me. What does that make me? What kind of heartless shit does that make me?” He shouted the last words, then emptied his cup with one large gulp.

“It makes you the man I love,” I said quietly, following him.

“Oh God,” Brian groaned, took his head in his hands, “How can you even think that? You should leave me as quick as you can and not waste your time with …,” he snorted in disgust, “someone like me. I have to be pretty fucked up to act the way I obviously did.”

“Brian,” Karen said gently, “We all come with baggage. Some with more than others. You had … a life-altering encounter at fourteen. You learned that you could feel good by,” she swallowed, “fucking. That this way you could block out the shit that happened in your life. You’ve made sex your drug. It made you numb and you welcomed it.”

He looked up, then shook his head, “Are you going to tell me I’m a sex addict? Because I’m not buying it. Drugs do things to your system, they … change stuff in your brain. But sex…,” he trailed off, shook his head again.

“No, I’m not saying you’re an addict. I’m simply saying that … that you learned that sex made you feel good, relaxed. And you simply crave the feeling to get you through the day. Through your life.”

I looked at her in amazement. I had never thought about it. But suddenly it made perfect sense. And I was wondering why Brian couldn’t see it, too. Or maybe – I turned my head at him, saw him blink – he did. “Brian?”

He blew out a long breath, “Okay. Let’s pretend I’m buying this shit. That doesn’t explain why you stayed with me. Why you did put up with me.”

“I loved you,” I whispered, feeling tears clog my throat.

“You’re an idiot,” he tossed at me, standing up again, walking to the couch, then back to us, his hair dry now, but because he hadn’t blow-dried it, it stood up at odd angles, giving him an incredibly sexy ‘just-out-of-bed’ look. “A fucking idiot. Why didn’t you just leave?”

“I-“

He stepped closer, took my shoulders once again and shook, “Are you just too fucking stupid or-“

And that’s when I snapped, “I did, okay.”

I drew a sharp breath when the words were out, my heart starting to hammer. I saw his eyes widen.

“What?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Ignoring Karen’s panicked gaze, I repeated slowly, “I said. I did.” I shrugged, held his eyes, “I left you.”

His hands fell from my shoulders, and he took a step back, disbelief written all over his face, “You … you left?”

“Yes,” I tossed at him angrily. “I left. Is that what you wanted to hear. I left you. You pushed me away. Whatever. I walked out of that door and never looked back, until-“ I broke off, suddenly realizing what I had done, when I saw him swallow visibly, when I saw how badly his hands were shaking. Making a step towards him, I tried to reach out, “Brian…”

But he stepped away, and then to my utter amazement he nodded, “That’s …,” he blew out a long breath, “only fair.” He nodded again, talking mostly to himself now, “Yes, just fair.” His eyes came up, “How … how did we get back together? What happened? Did I change?”

“Justin.” I heard the warning in Karen’s voice, but all I could see were Brian’s eyes. I was mesmerized by them, the way I’d always been.

“Brian,” the therapist stepped closer, “This is not the way to go. You need to remember on your own account. There’s no saying what might happen, if-“

He made an impatient gesture, shutting her off effectively, “This is my life, for fuck’s sake. And I have a right to know what happened.” Then he nailed me with his gaze in a way I had rarely experienced before. “When. Did. We. Get. Back. Together?”

And all I could say was, “We didn’t.” I couldn’t have lied to him, not even if I wanted. Not when he was looking at me with such excruciating pain in his expression.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowed, “Excuse me. Something must have happened with my hearing. I could’ve sworn I heard you say we didn’t?”

I couldn’t stop the tears in my eyes, “We didn’t,” I whispered brokenly, “Brian, please … I need to explain.”

But he was beyond explaining. Shooting me a murderous glare he whirled away, started to pace the loft like a madman. Then he stopped, his head bowed, “What exactly are you saying?”

Oh God. How was going to explain? I flickered a nervous glance at Karen and to my complete shock saw tears running down her cheeks. I felt the vibe sizing me again, but there was still Brian and I couldn’t dwell on it. “I’m saying,” I suppressed a sob, “I’m saying that … I wasn’t with you when Debbie called me to the hospital.”

Once again he nodded. “I see. And because I didn’t remember our breakup, you mercifully agreed to play a role.”

“NO,” I shouted, reaching for him. “Brian, that’s not how it was. Yes, yes, I … I came because I was afraid and because you were so lost-“

He pulled his arm away roughly, “I’m nobody’s pity fuck.”

“Oh God,” I heard Karen cry but I blocked her out.

“That’s not how it was – Brian, please … you have to listen to me…”

“When you slept with me … was that because I was lost, too?”

I almost cried out at the pain in his voice, he tried to mask with cruel words. “No,” I shook my head, hoping against hope that he would believe me. “Brian…”

But he raised his hands in front of his body like a shield, daring us to touch him. “Stay away from me.” Then he suddenly reached for his leather jacket that was still thrown over a seat and walked to the door. “Just … stay away from me,” he shouted, not bothering to close it when he stormed from the loft.

*

My first idea was to go after him, but then I realized that it was probably the worst thing I could do. He obviously needed to work through this on his own. He wasn’t lost now, wasn’t tortured by memories he couldn’t deal with. So the best I could do for him was to do exactly what he wanted … stay away from him, even though the thought of him going through it alone was almost killing me.

That’s when I became aware of sobs coming from behind me, and when I turned I saw Karen Dawson standing three, her face tear streaked, her eyes dark with … self-loathing? What the fuck…?

“Karen-,” I stepped closer, when it suddenly hit me. Almost feeling as if once again the air was knocked from my lungs, I forced myself to breathe. “How did you know that … Brian had – how did you call it – a life altering encounter at fourteen?” He hadn’t remembered his first blow job since yesterday at Michael’s – something was clearly not right here.

Karen looked at me for a moment, wiped her eyes and fumbled in her pocket for a cigarette. When it was lit, she took a deep draw, before she said, “There’s something I have to tell you. I should’ve told you before…,” she trailed off for a moment, before she added, “I knew Brian before he came to the hospital.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “You … knew him?” I felt something uneasy settle in the pit of my stomach. “What do you mean, you knew him? Knew him – how?”

She rubbed her forehead that had settled into a frown, before she reached for the ashtray on the counter., “I should never have taken this case. The moment I read Brian’s name I should’ve given it to a colleague. But I … I just had to see him.”

Okay, this was getting a little too weird for me now. If Brian wasn’t gay I would’ve guessed she was an ex, but even then it was hard to believe. If I knew one thing about Brian then it was that he didn’t do old. He could barely accept getting older himself. He wouldn’t go and touch a woman of all people – and certainly not one ten years his senior. “I’m not going to like this, right?”

“The truth is,” she slightly shook her head, “I wanted to see him suffer for a long time. I had this idea that it was all his fault. For a while I even made myself believe that to see him suffer would give me peace. And that I needed to find out what kind of man he’d become.” She suddenly moved away from the counter and started to pace. “Look at me – I’m a basket case. I   
should be in therapy, not Brian.”

“Not really getting the point here,” I told her, watching her pacing with growing nervousness. The uneasiness wouldn’t leave me either – instead it grew. She’d wanted to see him suffer? Had needed to know what happened to him? Why?

“Maybe I should tell you first, that about sixteen years ago I was married. I was just twenty-three and in seventh heaven. He was a great guy,” she laughed, and it was not a happy sound, “or so I thought. You’re still very young, but with time you’ll find out that a lot of people are not what they seem at first.”

She took another draw form her cigarette, stopped for a moment her pacing. I wanted to tell her that I already knew about the disguise people sometimes wore, but I had the feeling that she wouldn’t listen right now. For a moment I had the urge to laugh hysterically at the situation. Here I was, just turned twenty and listening to a therapist pouring her heart out to me.

“Anyways,” she went on, taking the next deep draw, “He was one of those people. The day I found out I was pregnant, I also found out that he had a preference for boys.”

I felt my breath leave my lungs in shock. What had she said before? ‘I needed to find out what kind of man he’d become’?

“I had been looking for him to tell him the good news – when I saw him. Standing in the shower of his gym, a teenager on his knees in front of him.” She exhaled, her movements agitated now, and all I could think was that Brian had told me about the ‘most famous shower scene since Psycho.’

I closed my eyes. Oh God. Then opened them again.

“I ran home and emptied the whole contents of my stomach on the way. A day later I filed for divorce. A week later I lost the baby. A month later I was a psychology student.” She suddenly seemed to remember that she wasn’t alone in the room. Making a dismissive gesture with her right hand, she sighed, “I suppose you were already guessing the boy was Brian. I blamed him for it a long time. But I finally accepted that he’d just been a boy. It had been Tony’s fault from the start. He was adult. He was thirty at the time and could’ve said no.”

She walked back to the counter, deposed her cigarette in the ashtray and instantly lit a new one. “And then I learned during college that an incident like the one Brian went through can leave scars so deep it can affect a person’s life forever. Especially if the person’s life is anything but happy.”

It finally started to make sense, “That’s what you said about sex making him happy.”

“Yes,” she nodded absentmindedly, furiously drawing at her cigarette, “He uses it to numb himself – and to find … a feeling of happiness, however short lived it may be. It’s not a real addiction – but close. He can’t help it. Even if he feels content, he…” She trailed off, combed a shaky hand through her hair.

I nodded, and wanted to ask another question when I saw a movement from the doorway. For a moment thinking it was Brian, I looked up with a smile, but then I saw Ethan standing there, his eyes confused.

I stepped towards him, “Ethan? What are you doing here?” I know I didn’t sound exactly pleased. But can you really blame me? I was worried sick about Brian and the last person I wanted to deal with was a jealous ex-lover.

He held out a shirt. “You forgot this at my place,” he said, his expression slightly dazed, his eyes flickering to Karen, who was just lighting her third smoke. “Is everything okay?”

I looked at him for a moment and realized it was honest concern in his eyes now. Exhaling a long breath, I shook my head, “No, not really. Brian …”

“Hey, I just met him,” he interrupted me, still holding the shirt in his hand.

I swallowed, a new dread settling in my stomach. God, this was a nightmare sprung to life. “You …,” my mouth was dry like the desert, “You met him?”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded. “At first he looked at me as if he didn’t know me – which he probably didn’t. But suddenly he seemed to remember and then he said the oddest thing.”

OH. GOD. “What,” I urged, my knees weak, “what did he say?”

“He said, ‘Funny we should meet. Were you on your way to pick up your lover? Because if that’s what you came for I’m not standing in your way. You’re welcome to him as far as I’m concerned.’ And then he just walked away from me as if nothing had happened.”

“Oh God,” Karen exclaimed, reaching for her cell phone.

I felt my heart clearly break in two. Ignoring the crying therapist and my ex-lover, I walked into the bedroom, the sheets still holding his smell, his robe lying on his side of the bed. And even though I knew it was irrational I had the feeling as if it could be the last time I was going to see this. Not caring for the two people out there, I simply sank down on the bed and wept.


	10. Reason to Believe

When I heard the doorbell ring, I thought Michael had finally come back from the Comic-shop. It seems to me as if he’s been there night and day lately. Don’t understand me wrong, I was glad he had something he has a passion for, really I was, but from time to time I’d have appreciated if it was me and not just a room full of superheroes.

I chuckled at the thought, because if he wasn’t that hung up on them we wouldn’t have met in the first place, and I opened the door, ready to kiss him hello, when I came face to face with a very disheveled Brian Kinney.

“Uh … Brian?”

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, shuffled them a little like a boy, before he rubbed his nape, something I noticed he does when he’s nervous. “Ben,” he took a deep breath, “I need to talk to Mikey. Is he home?”

Frowning a little at his appearance, not because I didn’t approve but because it was so … not-Brian to step out of his loft in sweatpants, a shirt and a leather jacket. “He should be there any minute though. You can come in and wait if you want.” I stepped back, making it clear that he was welcome. Somehow I had the feeling that it wouldn’t be the wisest thing if he would   
walk away now.

I saw him bite his lower lip for a moment, before he nodded, and walked inside. Not quite sure what to do, I rubbed my palms at my jeans, “Can I … uh .. .can I get you something?”

“No,” he replied, moving towards the window, “I’m fine, thanks.”

I have no idea why I said what I did then, but the fact is, I did, “You don’t look fine.”

He chuckled, “Thanks. I feel like shit.”

And I so didn’t want to stick my finger into a can of worms, but blame it on the fact that I’m a professor who deals with students on the daily basis. I simply couldn’t let it go. “Problems with Justin?”

He gave me a look over his shoulder, his brows raised, “With Justin? Yeah … no … I’m not sure.” He exhaled slowly, “Damn.”

I looked longingly at the book on the table I’d been reading, but now that I had started the whole thing, I couldn’t just back out, so I made myself ask, “What happened?”

“I’m a fucking piece of shit – that happened,” he replied without hesitation.

No news there. “Uh-huh.” And jeez – I sounded as if I was verbally challenged.

“The whole situation is so fucked up,” he inhaled slowly, exhaled a bit faster, “Were you at the loft last night? I’m not too clear on the events you know.”

No, he certainly wouldn’t. I hardly recognized him last night. I never expected to see Brian Kinney like that. Bruised and beaten, dirty and smelly. “Yeah. I came with Michael.”

Again he rubbed his nape, “I see. I … uh … remembered something last night. The tricks.”

Ah! Now we were getting somewhere. “And Justin …”

“Justin’s a damn fucking fool or a saint. Either way it doesn’t sound like him. Fuck. He took up with all this shit from me. Why would he do such a thing?”

And if anyone ever told me Brian Kinney was dumb and blind … I shook my head, chuckled slightly, “The kid loves you, Brian. That’s why he took all your shit and dealt with it.”

“Not forever though – he left me.”

“You remembered that, too, huh?” Damn, where was Michael when you needed him? Suddenly I didn’t feel as if I was up to this anymore. Didn’t feel like a professor helping his student. All I wanted was to go back to my book, my cup of tea and forget Brian had ever stepped over our threshold. But of course that wasn’t an option. 

“No, I didn’t.” He slowly shook his head, “He told me. And then he told me that he came back because …,” his voice changed, became higher, mocking, “Because wittle Brian was so lost. Thanks so very much for making me the most pitiful pitifuck of all.”

Isn’t the human ego something interesting? I always felt that Brian without his ego would be an almost likeable person. He wasn’t that bad. Could be downright funny sometimes. But his ‘the world revolves around me’ attitude really pissed me off. It seemed that even suffering from amnesia he couldn’t shake it off completely. “Maybe he just stayed with you because he wanted to. Did you think of that?”

“And why would he want that?” He turned back to me, gave me an almost curious look, I would’ve believed if I hadn’t seen the pain lurking in the depth of his expressive eyes. “Tell me, why he would come back on his own free will? Obviously he was smart enough to realize that I wasn’t a prize. There’s no explanation for his return – well, besides the fact that he felt   
pity.” He spoke the last word with such disgust, I wanted to grin, but restrained myself the very last moment.

“Love doesn’t always ask for a reason, Brian. I don’t know if you remember, but I’m HIV-positive.” His eyes widened and I saw this little piece of news had slipped from his mind. “So, why would Michael willingly risk to be with me? I mean, it’s pretty certain that I will end up shitting and vomiting, that he eventually will have to watch me die. Still, he decided that I was a risk worth taking. Why, if not because he loves me.”

He made an impatient gesture. “You’re HIV-positive. Big deal. You didn’t choose to be. It happened. My tricks didn’t just happen to me. I chose them. Every single one of them.”

“So did I,” I replied. When I saw his brows rise in surprise, I chuckled, “How do you think I got the damned virus in the first place? The condom broke, I didn’t really think about it – didn’t want to – and when I had my regular check up … That’s how it went.”

He nodded at that, before combing a hand through his still unruly hair. “I came to see Mikey, but now …,” he shook his head slightly, “It’s easier to talk to someone …,” he paused, then said, “Well, you know.”

I tried to stop it, but the wince was out before I could.

His head shot around, “You have to be fucking kidding me!” he exclaimed, snorting. “You mean you and I …,” he stared at me for a moment, before he paced the room and shouted, “Jesus Fucking Christ. My best friend’s lover. God – no wonder I tried to kill myself. And you-”

“Whoa, Whoa,” I interrupted him, “Not wanting to burst your suicide theory here, but you and I … that was long before I even knew Michael existed. And we fucked only twice. And it was just that – a fuck. It didn’t mean anything.”

He nodded again, turned back to the window and pressed his head against it. “I …,” he blew out a breath, the window turning misty. “When?”

“Almost three years ago. At the White party.”

“The White party?”

“It’s … uh … a party in Miami. Clubs. Beach. Hordes of horny queers. It’s a big fucking fest.” I chuckled slightly, “Thinking back on it now, it almost seems unreal that I went there.”

Brian was drawing figures on the steamed up window. A little startled I realized it was a cock. And a heart. Then he suddenly straightened and wiped it away. “So – why did you?”

I shrugged, not caring that he couldn’t see it. “Go there? Who knows. I was horny. I wanted to … live. I guess that’s the main reason. I knew I was HIV positive and I … wanted to celebrate life. Only afterwards I realized it was kind of shallow.”

“How … was it?”

“Huh?” Again with the verbally challenged answers. My students would have a blast seeing me like this.

“I mean, … we … together. How was it?”

His voice sounded almost casual, but at the stiff set of his neck and shoulders I could see he was anything but. And that’s when I knew that Justin and Michael were right – Brian Kinney had changed. He didn’t just suffer from amnesia. He was a different person, too. Never in my life I would’ve imagined to hear that kind of question from his mouth.

And to tell you the truth – I would’ve preferred if he’d never asked. I was more than just a little uncomfortable about it. Thinking back about the White party… I loved Michael, really did, and the sex we shared was great, but I’d be a fucking liar if I’d deny that Brian Kinney was the greatest lay I ever had. It wasn’t really surprising with his experience, but he was   
still Michael’s friend … and talking with him about … that …

I cleared my throat, “Uh … great.”

I saw Brian stiffen a little more, before he shook his head. “That’s good to hear, but it’s not what I meant. What I want to know is – how did it happen? Did you approach me, or was it the other way around?”

O…kay. Obviously amnesia had not affected his ego, hadn’t made Brian doubt his sexual prowess after all.

“Ah,” I replied, hoping I didn’t at least look like the complete idiot I sounded, “I think … it’s been a while, you know. But we … kind of approached each other. I remember seeing you on the dance floor and … you were beautiful.” And didn’t that come out great? “Uh … I mean … you looked good.”

He turned and his right brow rose, “So you remember I was a great fuck and that I was … ah … beautiful, but you don’t remember how it happened?” He chuckled, “You certainly have your priorities straight, Ben, old buddy.”

It was the oddest thing. We almost grinned at each other for a moment – two partners in crime, me remembering the hours we’d shared then – he obviously not. But then he got serious again.

“There’s a reason why I’m asking these questions and I don’t mean I’m fishing for compliments. I … uh … want to know. To understand. You said you were tricking, too?”

“Yeah.” What was he asking me? How you were turning tricks? Jesus!

“I see,” he nodded gravely, “So you can tell me how it works … and why someone does it?”

Holy fucking … “But you said you-“

He held up a hand, “I remember the tricks. The faces. What we,” he swallowed, “did. But I’m still not clear on the concept. My therapist thinks I used sex like a drug. To make myself feel better.”

Sounded as if the shrink knew what she was talking about. “And do you?”

He released a long breath, “I have no fucking idea.”

I nodded, then turned towards the kitchen. “I need a drink. And I have to take my meds,” I explained, leaving him to follow, what he did after a moment.

“Do you have a glass of juice?” he asked.

“Anything you prefer?”

“No,” he went to the chair in the corner and sat down, “whatever you have.”

So I poured him some grapefruit juice I’d opened this morning and handed it to him. “To answer your question. I think I used sex as a drug for a while. Especially after I was diagnosed positive. At least for a few hours I could forget about this fucking disease that I knew was going to kill me eventually. So yeah, I think it’s possible to use it as a drug. The problem   
is, however, it only works as long as it lasts. Afterwards you feel as lonely and empty as you did before.”

He nodded, “So you gave it up?”

“So I gave it up,” I confirmed with a smile. “I realized that celebrating life had nothing to do with various great fucks, and all with sharing, loving, caring.”

“Spoken like a Buddhist,” he chuckled slightly, then nodded towards the living-room, “I saw the little fellow out there.”

I took the last pill, an ugly pink thing I hated because it more often than not got stuck in my throat. “I’m not a Buddhist, Brian. Nevertheless, I think a lot what they tell us is … useful.”

Again he chuckled, “Like living your life in the now?”

“Something like that.” Pouring myself a cup of tea I joined him at the table.

He sipped from his drink. “Did you ever take drugs?” he asked.

I grinned, nodded towards the counter where the assortment of meds was standing right now. “What are you calling these?”

He grinned, too, for a moment. “I mean other stuff. I seem to have used them … frequently.”

“One more drug, huh?”

He put his glass down, released a breath, “Yeah. Something like that.” He frowned before he continued, “I … wish … I could understand what … why I did what I did. What if … I’ll do it again. If I’m an addict, I could have a relapse.”

I leaned slightly forward, “Do you want to know what I think? I think that whatever happened when you tried to kill yourself … it changed you. I didn’t know you all that well, but even I can see that you’re not the same person you were. The old Brian wouldn’t have questioned his actions. He wouldn’t doubt that whatever he did might have been wrong.” I smiled, “And he certainly wouldn’t stand in my apartment trying to find out if he was good enough for his lover.”

“I’m not-,” he started, then suddenly smiled a little, “Yeah, I suppose that’s what I’m doing. But it doesn’t feel wrong to me. How can someone live the life I did and not question it?”

“That’s what-“

“Hey, Ben – look what I found just on my way over here!” Michael’s voice came from the entrance closely followed by another only too familiar one.

“Ben, where is this gorgeous son-in-law of mine?”

A second later Debbie stormed into the kitchen, wearing a yellow printed shirt over red trousers – and outfit only Michael’s mother can wear with dignity – and was about to hug me when she spotted the other person in the room. Her eyes instantly grew moist and I was forgotten for a while.

“Brian,” she went over to him. He was standing now, had risen the moment we heard the voices from the doorway. “Honey. How are you?”

He swallowed, “Hey, Debbie. You look … older. Different. But still … amazing.”

Her lashes fluttered for a moment and I wondered if there was another person on this planet who could fluster her like this. But she instantly caught herself and slapped his head, “Stop it, Brian Kinney. Flirting with older women.” She shook her head, then suddenly flung her arms around him and held him close. “I’m so glad you’re better. We were all so worried last night.”

She pulled back, dabbing her eyes, “How’s Justin? Did you come on your own?”

I could almost see the shutters coming down in Brian’s eyes. As much as he had opened up during our conversation, he wasn’t about to discuss his relationships with Debbie Novotny. “He’s fine,” he replied, then looked at Michael. “Hi, Mikey. I was looking for you. But I found Ben instead. No wonder you’re living with him, he’s a damn good listener.”

Michael grinned and pecked me on the cheek, “Among other things,” he grinned.

Again I want to say first that I really love Michael. But sometimes I wonder if he’s really that dense. I mean, he’s been friends with Brian for, what, more than sixteen years? And still he doesn’t seem to be able to realize what’s going on with the other man.

Right now, however, it seemed to be exactly what Brian needed. Obviously he’d done all the talking necessary. Clearing his throat, he turned his gaze towards Michael and Debbie, “See you both. Then he looked at me, “Thanks for the juice, Ben …,” he grinned, “among other things.”

With that he sauntered from the room, leaving me to explain my partner and “mother-in-law” why he’d come in the first place. I smiled at them, before I asked, “Anyone up for tea?”

*****************************************************************************

The moment I opened the door of the loft, I knew it was empty. It wasn’t just the fact that no voices were drifting to my ears. More than anything it was the feeling that for the first time in days I was truly and completely alone.

I didn’t need long to realize that it was Justin’s absence that caused this feeling to rise inside of me. He’d been such a constant in my life the last few days, not to have him around, caused an emptiness in my heart it felt as if it was bleeding inside.

The kitchen was spotless, Justin had obviously taken the time to rinse everything and fill the dishwasher before going out. I had no idea when he had left and where he had gone, but I really couldn’t blame him. After the way I had treated him, had stormed from the loft, it would’ve been a miracle if he’d stayed and waited for my return.

A noise from the doorway had me looking up, and I wasn’t really surprised to see Karen Dawson standing there. She shot me a wry glance, “So you finally decided to come home?”

Because the answer was obvious, I didn’t bother to give it. “I needed time to … think. I talked to a friend. And then I went down to the river.”

Her brows came up, and she stepped inside, “The river?”

I nodded, “There’s a spot down at the Allegheny Mikey and I used to go when … when my father had gotten me good. We sometimes spent half the night there.” 

“Your parents didn’t mind?”

I had to laugh at that, “Mind? They probably hoped I would disappear for good one day. Just drown and rid them of their problem.”

She gasped at my blunt reply, and I could see her lips tremble for a moment. “That’s very harsh.”

“No,” I gave her a look, “it’s not. Harsh was to be beaten at regular intervals because my old man couldn’t keep his hands off the liquor cabinet. Harsh was seeing my mother stand there and doing nothing while I had the shit beaten out of me. To see her run to church day after day, praying to God, instead of simply leaving her husband to get us out of there. That,   
doc, is harsh.”

After a moment she nodded curtly. “You’re right. And I’m sorry that I … I hated you a long time, Brian.”

She – what? “You know me? I … I mean … knew me before?”

“Yeah,” she combed a hand through her hair. “Remember Tony Parelli?”

How could I ever forget Tony Parelli? I could remember every breath, every noise, every word we exchanged in the shower. I also remembered his words the day after, the way he warned me never to come near him again. That I shouldn’t confuse sex with love. Tilting my head I asked, “What’s he to you?”

“He was my husband. I saw you two that day. In the shower.”

Shit! “You … you’re Tony Parelli’s wife?” Jesus Fucking Christ! I couldn’t believe it. I simply couldn’t believe it. “That’s how you knew that I had a life altering encounter at … Fuck!”

My hands suddenly shaky I reached for a glass to pour myself a some Whiskey, then remembered that I hadn’t eaten the whole day and decided against it.

“It took me years to work through my anger. And a lot more time to realize that he hurt you that day a lot more than me.”

“He didn’t-,” I started, then inhaled slowly, “He didn’t force me.” I looked at her, tried to imagine her with Tony – and couldn’t. Tony had been not even thirty, with a fit body, and amazing face … every boy’s wet dream. Karen wasn’t ugly. But she was’t a beauty either. But then … Tony would be fourty-something now. Probably had a belly and was bald.

“I know that,” she smiled, “But it doesn’t matter. You were fourteen, Brian. He should’ve taken you home instead of … encouraging you to do something you were in no way ready for.”

And the woman was calling herself a shrink? “Believe me, I was ready. You have no idea how often I jerked off before Tony … I was ready.”

“No, you weren’t. And I don’t mean sex. A lot of people have sex with fourteen. But it’s different.”

Not quite getting it, I asked, “Different?” Fuck – Tony Parelli’s wife – probably his ex-wife – was my shrink! Think about weird things in your life.

“You had sex with a man more than twice your own age,” she started, before she obviously remembered my relationship with Justin and added, “which in itself isn’t that unusual. But the man – the first man – you were intimate with was married. He used you. Then shoved you away. Not only did you learn that sex could make you forget, but you also learned that it meant nothing. That being intimate with a person was something you didn’t think about later. Adding the fact that your own home wasn’t a very loving one – it explains a lot.”

“You mean I learned to use sex that day?” I asked, wanting to get it right. Was she really telling me that Tony had caused my current problems?

“In a way, yes. You learned that you could have sex with a person one day, and discard it the next. I’m not saying that it was the sole reason for your tricking. A lot more has to happen in a person’s life to change him that way. But it certainly was a point we can’t forget.

“Where is he now?”

“Happily married with a woman who chose to ignore his … other interests.” She smiled wryly, “I divorced him a month later. Looking back it was the best thing that could happen to me,” a shadow flickered over her face, “well, almost.” She took a deep breath, “Anyways, I waited in the car outside for you to come back.”

I nodded, rubbed a hand over my face, “Justin?”

“He took his clothes and left.”

For a moment I was stunned. So far I’d assumed that he’d simply gone out. But this? “He … left?” I hated the way my voice sounded like that of a lost little boy.

It was Karen’s turn to frown, “Yeah. But I thought … I mean after his friend came and delivered your message I thought-“

My – message? “What message?” His friend?

“Yes,” she came closer, her eyes sharp, “A friend came and said that he’d met you on the street. That he could take Justin because you were through with him. Well, it wasn’t exactly his words, but …,” she trailed off, watching me.

What the fuck – “I didn’t talk to anyone when I left. I was so pissed, I simply stormed out, never looked left or right. Then I went straight to Mikey’s apartment. Do you remember the name of the friend?”

“Sure. Ethan. Justin called him Ethan.”

Ethan? “I don’t-“

A flash.

Dark hair.

A young guy.

I blinked, then flinched when I felt Karen’s hand on my arm. “Brian, are you alright?”

I shook my head to clear my mind. “I don’t remember,” I whispered, trying to concentrate. Or did I not want to remember?

Ethan?

“Justin knew him quite well I think.”

I nodded, but still couldn’t …

A party.

Loud, fast music.

A stage.

Comic figures?

“Brian?”

It was as if her voice came from far away. I wanted to answer but couldn’t.

Ethan?

A fiddle?

A fiddle player?

I felt nauseous all of a sudden and ran to the bathroom, dry heaving over the toilet, felt sweat on my brow, between my shoulder blades, my heart thumping like crazy.

Ethan?

Oh God. ETHAN!

I knew. I knew. I could see him in front of my inner eye.

Trying to control my ragged breathing, I leaned against the sink, grabbed it, my knuckles turning white.

“Brian? Do you want to lay down?”

No. No. No. NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO!

I shook my head, let go of the sink, walked into the bedroom, frantically searching through my nightstand for … there it was. Pictures. I remembered Vic taking pictures with my camera at the party.

And there it was – Justin. And Ethan.

Justin and Ethan.

Ethan. It was the guy Justin had left me for. The guy he’d cheated on me with. The fiddle player with the talent, the beautiful words, the picnics and flowers - and the crappy clothes.

The guy who had Justin.

“Brian,” Karen’s voice was concerned now. “You need to calm down. Brian, listen to me.”

“No,” I turned to her, my head completely clear. Suddenly I knew exactly what I needed to do. Walking into my closet I pulled out my overnight bag, quickly throwing clothes inside.

“Brian? What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” I asked. “I’m taking a trip. I need to get out of here.”

“You can’t run away from this. You need to-“

“What?” I whirled around. “Talk about it? What would it change?”

“You need to work through this. Need to-“

“I can’t,” I shouted, no longer able to keep my feelings inside. “Can’t you see this is … overwhelming me … and I … need to think about it. Need to … do this on my own. I promise, I won’t kill myself. Okay?”

She looked at me for a long moment. And finally she must have found something that convinced her, because she stepped back. “Alright. But you have to promise to call me if there’s a problem.”

I gave her a slight grin, “Okay, mom.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “What about Justin?”

Good question. What about him? I knew that I loved him. But did it matter? Did it really matter anymore? Could it ever be enough? Could I ever be enough?

For Karen I kept my gaze impatient and shrugged, “What about him? He obviously made his choice.”

Damn, if that didn’t sound familiar – and utterly wrong.

“But you said-“

I held up a hand, “Listen. I … I need to come to terms with this first. If you want you can tell him that I’m okay. Anything else,” I rubbed a hand over my face, “has to wait. I just can’t deal with it now.”

I grabbed my bag, then saw my car keys lying on the counter. “I’ll be alright, doc,” I told her on our way down. “Don’t worry.”

“I always worry, that’s part of my job.”

We reached the street and I walked towards the jeep. I really needed to get a new car soon. This one looked as if it belonged to an eighteen year old.

“Brian,” she called after me, and I turned, “Take care. And don’t forget to call.”

“I won’t,” I promised, knowing that I would. If not for myself, then for her. She probably needed the calls more than I. I opened the door, and paused, “Karen?”

She stood beside her own car. “What?”

“If you happen to meet Justin. Tell him-“ What? That I love him? Hardly something you would like to hear from a stranger. Besides, he had Ethan now – again. So why would he need me? Ethan was his age, was probably a lot better for him than someone who had the kind of baggage I had. Who had been too fucked up to tell his partner he loved him. Who thought flowers and   
picnics were stupid and never saw how much it hurt his lover. Who didn’t care that it did.

“Yeah?” She was till waiting for me to go on, to tell her what kind of message she was supposed to deliver.

After a moment I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. “Tell him nothing. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

I climbed into the jeep, started the ignition.

When I could see Pittsburgh in my rear mirror I started to breathe easier.


	11. Reason to Believe

Pittsburgh hadn’t quite faded from my view, when I realized this was a big fucking mistake. For all my bravado to need time and distance to work this out on my own, I was suddenly absolutely sure that there would be no working out without Justin. He was such an intricate part of this whole mess, he also had to be part of the solution – if there was one. He might have left the loft with the wonderful Evan, but I was not just going to give up without a fight – not this time around.

I was Brian Kinney after all. A great fuck – according to Ben – and Justin had told me he loved me – not two days ago. He had looked into my eyes and told me – and I was sure it hadn’t been a lie. He might have left the loft with his fiddler, but that didn’t mean he was going back to him, was it?

Yes, I had doubted that he could really love me, and could still hear a little voice whispering to me, but I tried to think of Ben’s words, that Michael loved him despite the HIV, that love sometimes didn’t need a reason. Didn’t ask. Didn’t want explanations.

That it just - was.

If anyone asked me now, this very moment, why I loved Justin – what would I say? Because he was smart and funny, loyal and honest – at least most of the time? Because he was making me laugh – and there was nobody who could get me as hot as he? Maybe I would say that. Or maybe I would just say – because I do. Maybe he thought the same of me. Or something different. Was it really important?

Maybe it was time to get over my own insecurities, my doubts regarding our relationship and just to give it a try. I had pushed him away before, thinking he was way better off with Ethan and now I was doing it again. Not as deliberately as before, but by ignoring him, by letting him leave with Ethan, letting him think I didn’t care … If he loved me, it had to hurt him. Being neglected could hurt just as much – I knew that better than anyone else. My mother had long enough pretended I didn’t exist.

Or maybe I had just decided that even a bastard such as I was deserving a second chance. Ben was right – I wasn’t the Brian who had used tricks and never cared. I wasn’t that person anymore. And if I had changed, if I truly wanted to become someone different, someone worth loving – and God, how I wanted to be that someone – then maybe I also had to accept that Justin was   
his own person and it wasn’t entirely up to me, but to him as well to decide if he should love me or not.

Bringing the jeep to a sudden halt in the middle of the highway, I made a U-turn and headed straight back to the town I’d just left an hour ago, only one thought in my mind. To find Justin – and to make him see that … no – to ask him, if he was willing to risk it. And if his answer was yes, that I wasn’t going to push him away again.

*

I wasn’t sure where to look for him, so I went to the most likely location – Deb’s house. Even if he wasn’t with her, she would probably know where to find him. Debbie had to be the best informed person on Liberty Avenue. There were times when I believed that a queer couldn’t make a step without her knowing. Besides – she’d always been Justin harbor. He’d gone to her the night after the Rage-party. Had gone to her when he’d been forced to doubt my love – again.

My heart was pounding a little when I knocked on the door. Vic opened only after a moment, and smiled when he recognized me. “Well, well, well,” he drawled. “If that isn’t the man who just left town to … find himself.” He stepped back, and I followed, grinning at his back. “Hey, sis, the lost on is back. Seems they all find you sooner or later.”

The grin slipped instantly when I saw Justin struggling on his feet, his face streaked with tears. He was flanked by Debbie, who was glaring at me, and by the ever-present fiddler, whose gaze wasn’t very friendly either. But I could also see the guilty flicker in his eyes. No surprise there, you little lying shit.

“Brian,” Justin’s voice was hoarse and so full of disbelief that I instantly felt like a heel for taking off that way. Once again I’d failed him. No – I firmly stomped foot on all the guilt shit. If I really wanted to go through with this I had to move forward and leave the past where it belonged.

“Nice of you to come back, asshole,” Debbie shot at me, “If Dr. Dawson hadn’t called we’d be out searching for you again.”

Wincing a little at her reference to my yesterday’s disappearance, I coughed slightly before I was able to reply. “I … uh … I’m sorry.”

“What was that?” She came closer, a grin spreading over her red-painted mouth. “Can you repeat that?” 

My eyes narrowed, she was loving this way too much. “I’m sorry, okay.” I looked at Justin, “I really am – for leaving like that.”

“It’s … it’s okay,” he said, swallowing a little, trying his best to remove the tear streaks from his cheeks.

Ethan directed his glare towards him, “How can you say it’s okay? He treats you like shit – again. And you’re ready to forgive him,” he snapped his fingers, “just like that?”

Ignoring the annoying brat, I took a step closer, “Justin – I think we need to talk.”

“O-kay,” he agreed instantly. “We could go upstairs – if that’s okay with you.” His eyes flickered to Debbie.

She sighed, “By all means. Go upstairs.” Another glare in my direction, “But I don’t want you to fuck him – is that clear, Brian? No fucking under my roof.”

I went to her, pecked her on the cheek, “I love you too, Deb.”

She blushed prettily at that, then – as I’d expected it – brushed it off, “Little asshole.”

“Justin,” Ethan grabbed the blonde’s arm, “Don’t let him do this to you.”

“Ethan,” the blonde gave his ex an irritated gaze, “This has nothing to do with you. You’re not my-“

“It doesn’t matter,” the fiddler interrupted, “I’m still your friend. Maybe the only true one you’ve got.” He looked around, “They’re all on his side anyway.”

I had been quiet for Justin’s sake, didn’t want him to know what a lying bastard his little friend was, but now it was enough. I was not going to stand by letting him insult Deb and Vic, two people who had been nothing but good to Justin, who’d taken him in, nurtured him – when nobody else would. Me included.

Grabbing the younger man’s arm, I pulled him away from Justin, “You better keep out of this, you little lying piece of shit,” I hissed.

Justin’s gaze shot to mine, “B-brian?”

“Brian, honey …,” Concern in her eyes, Debbie came over to us. “I’m sure there’s another way to-“

“Keep out of this, Deb,” I warned, pulling Ethan closer, and smiled – even though I knew it didn’t make my face friendlier, “So you met me on the street in front of my building, huh? Funny, I can’t remember seeing you.”

“Let go of me,” he hissed.

“And I told you you could have Justin, because I didn’t want him anymore? Tell me, Evan, do you read these stories somewhere or are you simply watching too many of those teenage dramas on television?” Not caring that the teen gasped, and grimaced because I was causing him pain, I waited.

Ethan took a step back, “I … I …”

“No comments?” I looked him straight in the eye, then turned my head to the blonde beside him. “I never saw Ethan today, Justin. When I left the loft, I went straight to Mikey’s apartment. Whatever he told you was nothing but a lie.”

When pain of betrayal flickered through Justin’s blue eyes, I wanted to take him in my arms badly. “Ethan?” He stared at his friend. Then took a sharp breath, “Maybe you should leave now.”

“Justin,” the other teenager’s eyes were tearing up. “I … I’m sorry. But I … I love you. Please … don’t send me away. Not for him. He – he hurt you. He’s going to hurt you again. Please. I did it for you.”

“It’s not your decision to make, Ethan,” Justin replied firmly, and I wondered if we were soulmates after all – despite the age, and all the other differences between us. Hadn’t I thought the same only a few hours ago? “And certainly not by lying to me. By betraying me.”

“I never meant to. I just wanted to save you. From him,” he gave me an angry nod, “He’s never loved you. And he never will.”

“And you think … because you do, it gives you the right to lie to me for … my own sake?” Justin shook his head. “Ethan – I think you need therapy. Badly.”

Ethan’s pleading turned into an ugly pout, “I suppose you’re really just a stupid twit,” he bit out, reaching for his jacket. “If you send me away now, that’s it. I’m not coming back.”

Justin blinked, but I cold see him straighten, his chin coming up, “Goodbye, Ethan,” he said softly, then turned to me. “We can talk now, if you want.” He didn’t look back when Ethan closed the door behind him.

*

“I can’t believe Ethan lied to me like that,” Justin said before I could even close the door to his room. Michael’s old room. A lot of things happened in these walls. I almost smiled at the memories. But Justin’s pain was what counted now.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, “I know Ethan means a lot to you.”

Only then he seemed to realize that I was remembering his ex-lover. He paled and gulped, “You … you know about Ethan.”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “When I … came back, Karen told me about Ethan coming to the loft. That’s when I remembered. When you left me you went with him.”

He nervously bit his lower lips, “You also remember the party?”

“Not everything, but I remember when you left with him. The moment our eyes met.” I paused for a moment, searching for the words, “I thought I was going to die.” His eyes widened in shock, but before he could say anything, I continued, “But I was also glad. I realized that I couldn’t make you happy, that whatever I tried was the wrong thing. Just think about the disaster at your birthday.”

“You remember that too?” The words were a mere whisper, the eyes teary.

“Yeah. Funny enough it happened when I drove over here.” And I’d been so disgusted with myself, I wanted to turn away once again. “I’m sorry for thinking that I couldn’t think of anything else for a birthday present. But that’s what I mean. I was too fucked up to … to even think any other way. It never occurred to me that you would’ve been happy with a candle and a nice dinner. That this meant more to you than the most expensive hussler I could’ve come up with. We were just living on different planes. I was convinced that I was doing the best by letting you go.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, “Pushing me away you mean.”

I sighed, the boy was just too smart. “Pushing you away,” I agreed.

The same moment there was a knock on the door, then it opened revealing Vic, a wry grin on his face, “Debbie insisted you two needed a drink. I put it on me to deliver it.” His eyes twinkled mischievously, “Just in case.”

“Vic,” Justin gasped, “We just got here. We’re not animals, you know.”

But Vic simply shrugged, “You’re a teenager, I was a teenager once.” Another grin, “And I know Brian.”

“Thank you so much for your trust,” I told him dryly. “But thanks for saving us from another round of Deb’s advice.”

He nodded, “She means well,” he put a tray holding two glasses of coke on the table. “Anyways. I’m leaving you to … whatever you need right now.”

With a last smile he turned and left.

We both took a glass from the table, both thirsty, before I turned back to Justin, “And there’s another thing I only realized today. You were admiring me. And I liked it. Until I saw what was happening to you.”

He looked me strangely, “Happening to me? Is that what you call it. I was in love with you, Brian.”

I sighed, “I know. But it was the wrong kind.”

His glass came down with a thump. “The wrong kind,” he sputtered. “You self-righteous-“

“Whoa,” I stopped him. “Don’t get all worked up. Maybe this came out wrong. But you have to admit that there was a lot of worshipping involved. Only in the end when you and … when you saw Ethan, it changed. And I was glad.”

He shook his head disbelievingly, “You – were?”

I nodded, and said simply, “Yeah.”

*****************************************************************************

Brian looked at me for a long time, holding his glass in his hand, swirling its contents, then he finally sighed and put it down. “Justin, you were on your best way to become Michael Novotny number two. The comic book said it all. You wanted me to be your hero. And I just couldn’t let it happen. That’s why I was so pissed when I found the drawings.” He must have seen my   
doubtful look, because he grimaced, “Okay, yeah, I admit I was jealous, too. But … I’ve seen what happened to Michael and I couldn’t stop it. Not anymore. When I realized he was worshipping me I was fifteen. And I was flattered. At home they treated me like shit – Michael was balm for my soul.”

He walked over to the window, stared out for a moment, then turned back to me. “I can’t change what he feels. He’s 31 years old. But you were barely nineteen. I’d be damned if I stood by and watched how you became his clone.”

“So you – what – decided to push me away?” I glared at him, angry beyond reason. Damn him. Damn this idiot. “And you think that doesn’t make you a hero two times more? This sacrifice crap is what Rage does. He gives up his own happiness for others. You stupid asshole.”

His right brow came up in typical fashion, “Justin,” he said my name on a chuckle. “You’re … it wasn’t a sacrifice. I just … wanted you to become your own person.”

I wanted to hit him – hard, “I am my own person,” I cried, gesturing wildly with my hands. “I was a lot more mature than you ever were.”

He chuckled at that, “Maybe on the outside. And maybe even sometimes on the inside. But,” he paused, “Unlike you I was living after the rules you created. I never let anyone kiss me on the mouth after that night. None of the tricks, that is – at least as far as I can remember. While you broke the rules from the start.” I wanted to protest, but he wouldn’t let me. “I’m not blaming you. You were not even nineteen. You made the rules because you thought that way you could hold onto me – at all costs. Which brings us straight back to where we started.”

“And that would be?” I didn’t quite understand what he was getting at.

“Your teenage version of love,” he said simply, emptying his glass with a last large gulp. Staring at it for a moment, he finally put it next to mine on the table. “Only when Ethan turned up it changed. You started seeing me in a whole new light. You started seeing me for what I was and not what you wished for. We can sugarcoat this now and say that I cared for you,” he   
smiled, “and I did care for you. Deeply. But there is so much baggage in my past, so much hurt, I simply couldn’t uncover it.”

I suddenly felt sad – so incredibly sad, and I felt tears well up in my eyes, “Not even for me?” I asked, blinking the wetness away. I knew he was right. I knew I had cheated on him, had broken the rules left and right, and he’d let it go – still sticking to them himself. Instead of realizing that it was his way of telling me he still cared, I only saw what was right in front of me. Ethan’s pretty words, Ethan’s promises, the light in his eyes when he saw me. I was so completely swept away by his behavior, I never took a pause to take a closer look at what Brian was trying to do. That he was battling his own demons the best he could – for me.

“No even for you,” he agreed, startling me a little. I was so deep in thoughts, for a moment I forgot he was right beside me. “I tried – I really did, Justin. You have to believe that. I just … couldn’t. When Karen saw me the first time, she said it was possible that my personality would change, that things I thought right and fitting might suddenly seem wrong to me. I   
laughed at her – but she was right.”

Karen. Did he even know? “Brian, there’s something about her you need to-“

“I already do. She told me,” he replied. “Told me all about Tony Parelli.” He chuckled, surprising me, “I didn’t think about him for a long time.”

“You told me about it during our first night,” I reminded him, knowing even then that the experience couldn’t have been as pleasant as Brian had pretended, or as funny. There’d been a look in his eyes. 

“I did, huh?” He raked a hand through his hair, “I never told anyone about this. Not even Mikey. Tony was a beautiful man and I … wanted him. That day I … I just couldn’t help it. And he liked it, I know he did. He came after only a few minutes. I was in heaven, thought I was in love. The next day I saw him in the hallway expecting him to feel the same.” He laughed, but it   
wasn’t happy. “He told me that it meant nothing, that it was just sex and that I’d better get used to it. That I should stay away from him because he was married and loved his wife.”

He shook his head, and I wanted to take him in my arms, but knew he wouldn’t want me to. He was lost in his memories, and I felt more than only a little awed he’d chosen me to hear them.

“Loved his wife,” he snorted, “God, what a fucking hypocrite.” He almost visible pulled himself back into the present, looked at me, “Karen says his behavior is one of the reasons for my tricking.” He paused, chuckled, “Beyond a million other things, I’m sure.”

“How do you feel about it?” I don’t know why I asked it, but it seemed the right thing to do.

“The tricking? Kind of … as if someone else did it. But I’m slowly coming to terms with it. What Karen said helped. It’s not so much the fact that I slept with more men I can remember, even though it still bothers me a little, but the main reason was … I couldn’t understand … why I need to do it. Why it was so important to prove myself over and over again, why I craved like a madman, why I couldn’t let it go even though … I was falling in love with you. I just couldn’t understand myself.”

“And you do now?” I wondered if he could really. Could anyone? Brian’s past was complicated, there were probably a lot of things causing his unique behavior.

He smiled slightly, “I’m getting there. Jesus,” he exclaimed suddenly, laughing a little, “amnesia is a bitch. Don’t ever try it, Justin.”

I looked at him seriously, “There’s still a time lost to me, too. I still can’t remember our dance at the Prom.”

His eyes turned dark, “I do. It was beautiful. You …,” he slowly reached out, his hand cupping my cheek, his thumb tracing the line of my cheekbone, “were beautiful. Your smile was brighter than all the lights in the room. God, I never had a chance. I realized that night that I loved you.”

I felt my heart starting to beat frantically, my mouth suddenly dry, “You … did?” Brian loved me then. The revelation floored me. “But you … tried to push me away again.” And he had. He hadn’t told me he’d come to the hospital night after night, and when we met he’d more or less brushed me off. Or hadn’t he? Maybe I’d simply been too blind to see what was wrong with him. I had been startled to find the scarf around his neck, but I never took the time to think about it, had seen it as part of the guilt he obviously felt.

Which reminded me of something. “Do you … remember the suicide now?”

He stiffened. “No,” he shook his head, his hand falling away from my face, leaving me with a sudden coldness that made me regret my question. Yet, I knew I had to ask it. “Those hours are lost. I don’t even know why I … decided to end my life. But I know,” his eyes were intense, “that I don’t feel like dying right now. More like living forever.”

I gulped, cleared my throat, “Why … uh … why did you come back, Brian? Karen told us you wanted to go away for a while, clear your head. But you came back. Why?”

 

//I lie in bed and watch the shadows dancing across the wall.  
Nothing to do but think of you and count the tears that fall.  
Oh how I wish it was real.  
I wish I could feel you holding me close.  
The only thing I know for sure is I should’ve never let you go.//

 

“Because,” he touched me again – softly, almost as if I was made of glass. Only his fingertips connected with my skin, it was a whisper, nothing else, but I could feel it bone deep, “I decided I was not giving you up without a fight. I might have treated you like shit, but I’m not that person anymore. I know it’s only been a few days, but I can feel it – I know I can change, have already.”

 

//I would walk the world.  
I’d cross the sea.  
I’d journey beyond the moon.  
I’d try anything, go anywhere  
to find my way back to you.//

 

He was not giving me up? He wanted to change? Only a year ago I would’ve flung my arms around his neck in order to get as close as possible. But I wasn’t that person anymore, either. Being with him for almost two years, being away from him for another one, being with Ethan, had turned the romantic teenager into someone who knew what he wanted. “Are you sure?” Because truth to be told, I wasn’t. Yes, I could feel the changes, but would they last?

“You want guarantees?” he asked incredulously, “Justin, there are none. I had to learn it the hard way. You either take the chance or you leave it. It’s up to you to decide if it’s worth it.”

 

//I still don’t understand the reason.  
I think I was just afraid – what can I say.  
All I can do is face the truth and deal with mess I made.  
Now all I want is a chance to take it back, can’t go on like this.  
‘cause ever since we said goodbye  
I have been lost in loneliness.//

 

“This is not a game,” I insisted, holding his gaze, “Brian, this is serious. We both hurt each other. A lot. We both made faults.”

“And all we can try is not to repeat them. But we can’t promise not to hurt each other, because we will – albeit unconsciously. Sometimes even because we have to. Getting hurt was also a reason I shied away from relationships. All the ones I knew ended badly, people hurt each other, and I decided by keeping away from it, I could spare me the pain.” Again he smiled, “Not anymore, though. I realized that love and hurt belong together, that by avoiding one you close yourself up from the other.”

 

//I would walk the world.  
I’d cross the sea.  
I’d journey beyond the moon.  
I’d try anything, go anywhere  
to find my way back to you.//

 

“So – what now? You’re telling me you decided to give us another chance, and you expect me to jump with you?” I don’t know why I was pissed. He was offering me what I always wanted. So why didn’t I just grab it with both hands? Maybe I was due for therapy now?

But he surprised me and shook his head, “No, that’s not what I’m doing. You said you loved me. Is it true?”

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation. If I knew one thing for sure, it was that I loved this man. Probably always would.

“And I love you,” he said firmly, “You can’t know what it means to me that I’m finally free to say it. But I …,” he reached out as if to touch me again, then let his hand fall away, “I’m not expecting you to jump. Instead I’m asking you to take the risk with me. And believe me I know that it won’t be easy – not by a long shot.”

 

//I know that I was a fool to push you away.  
and if you let me back in your life  
baby, I swear on my heart in your arms I will stay.//

 

“That’s the understatement of the century,” I said, huffing slightly.

He grimaced, “You’re probably right. I’m a big risk, I realize that. And I’m not expecting you to jump, but to think about this – long and hard.”

 

//I would walk the world.  
I’d cross the sea.  
I’d journey beyond the moon.  
I’d try anything, go anywhere  
to find my way back to you.

Baby I was wrong, now that you’re gone  
the only thing left to do  
is spend everyday, try every way  
to find my way back to you.//

 

I wanted to reply, but before I could say a word, his mouth came down on mine – hard and fast, and for a moment I was swept away in emotions so deep I couldn’t think straight. His tongue sneaked into my mouth for a moment, firmly stroking mine, then left, and we were both breathing hard when he stepped back, our eyes dark with desire.

His thumb lightly brushing my lips, he looked at me, his expression intense, his voice low, barely above a whisper, “Think about it, Sunshine. Take your time. And when you’re ready you’re going to tell me. I want you in my life. Now it’s your turn to decide.”

He backed away, our eyes still locked, my breath coming hard and fast, my mind too muddled to form a coherent thought. I could only watch him, drown in his hazel orbs.

He reached for the doorknob, and smiled, “Just don’t forget one thing, Justin. I love you.” With that he slipped from the room and I heard him descend the stairs, exchange a few words with Debbie and Vic before he left the house.

 

// Baby I was wrong, now that you’re gone  
the only thing left to do  
is spend everyday, try every way  
to find my way back to you.//

 

Feeling suddenly weak, I walked over to the bed and sat, my trembling hands lying on my thighs. Brian had rolled the ball in my field. The only thing I was sure of was that I loved him. I loved him so much that I thought I was going to burst. And that he loved me. I didn’t doubt it anymore, not after I’d looked in his eyes, not after he’d opened up to me in a way he’d never done it before.

He had sugarcoated nothing, had laid his cards open, and now it was up to me to make the next move. He’d spoken like someone who’d matured a great deal in only a few days. Who suddenly saw things very clear and had stopped lying to himself – and others. He’d acted like an adult.

While I had never in my life felt more like a boy.

I stared at my entwined fingers. At the wallpaper with the wacky motives – so typical of Michael Novotny I wanted to laugh.

Finally Brian was treating me like his equal.

That left only one question – was I up to it?

 

// Baby I was wrong, now that you’re gone  
the only thing left to do  
is spend everyday, try every way  
to find my way back to you.//


	12. Reason to Believe

I stripped and got into the shower, just stood there under the spray, my hands pressed against the wall in front of me, the water cascading down, spraying over my hair, my shoulders, my body, soothing me like a lover’s hands. A lover’s hands I had missed way too long. Three fucking weeks. And I was already addicted to it.

I chuckled, shook my head. Shit! I was a pitiful case – no doubt there – and probably the laughing stock of Liberty Avenue by now, but strangely enough I didn’t care. On the contrary, I couldn’t remember ever having felt better. Of course there was still the problem that parts of my life were still lost to me, but who the hell cared? I had given up trying to search for them.

My new therapist – a friend of Karen’s – had told me my memories could come back tomorrow, or never, but forcing them wouldn’t help any. The best I could do, he advised, was to live my life and not dwell on the past – and I was trying my best to do exactly that.

I had no idea how long I’d been standing under the hot spray when the door behind my back was opened, and he stepped inside, bringing in whoosh of cool air. I turned slowly, and my eyes widened.

“Hi,” he said, grinning.

I frowned but couldn’t quite suppress the amusement at the sight. “Uh …” Still, words failed me.

“That’s got to be a first. Brian Kinney struggles for words,” his grin widened, his eyes wandering up and down my body, pausing at my engorged cock for a moment, before finally settling on my face, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Are you in need of help?”

My right brow came up, “You’re wet.” 

He giggled, “So are you.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “but I at least shed my clothes before I stepped into the shower. Something you seem to have forgotten.”

“Thought I’d add a little kinky something to our sex-life,” he replied, licking his lips, wiggling his hips slightly.

The left brow joined the right one, “You think stepping into the shower fully clothed is kinky? That’s pitiful. I’m just starting to realize that there’s a lot I’ve missed teaching you.”

He tilted his head, “Oh? Well, maybe it’s time to start my lessons then.” He reached out, ran his hands along my shoulders, my chest, then stopped an inch above my groin, not caring that he was soaked now, his clothes clinging to his body, his erection visibly straining against the zipper.

Not able to hold back any longer, the target in front of me simply too delicious to miss, I peeled off his shirt, my eyes fastening on his nipples for a moment, before they were followed by my hands, finally by my mouth. I licked the water from his body, sucked it, his pale skin soft and smooth beneath my lips.

I fell to my knees in front of him and pulled off his pants and undies, freeing his erection. The shoes were ruined and I threw them into the corner – they were beyond saving anyway. Maybe I could convince him to a pair of Prada boots this time. I chuckled slightly at that, and he did too, obviously guessing my thoughts. It turned into a groan when I kissed the tip of his dick, his head lolling back, his eyes closing. He shuddered and clutched at my shoulders, my head, my hair.

“Careful,” I warned playfully, “I’m growing older each day. I might need the hair.”

“Okay, grandpa,” he joked, giggling when I let my tongue glide over his knees, but they almost buckled when my mouth traveled higher, licking the water from his inner thighs. “Oh God,” he moaned, stumbling back against the shower wall, almost falling with this pants still around his ankles.

Water cascaded down his body, and I drank straight from the source, wanted him wild with need. I felt a storm raging inside of me now, a need, and I wanted him to feel it, too. I wanted to give it to him, to take him with me on the journey. I wanted him dazed and gasping, and moaning. Hanging on to me with every bit of strength he had left.

He wanted a lesson? He was going to get one.

Surging back to my feet, I lifted him slightly off the ground and out of his trousers, smiling at the startled look he gave me, then planted him right under the spray. 

“Brian,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

I chuckled into his nape, “Not so fast. You wanted a lesson, Sonny Boy. Now watch … and learn.”

“Oh God,” he moaned, slowly realizing that I was serious about this.

Letting my hands glide over his shoulders, I tried to ignore the painful throbbing of my own body, the feeling that I was perilously close to exploding. Only years of experience made it possible for me to hold back, to concentrate on pleasuring my lover instead.

Bringing my mouth close to his skin, I started bringing my lips to his nape with light, butterfly kisses and smiled when I felt him shiver each time he was touched. My mouth slowly made its way down, along his spine, kissing each vertebra, while the water continued to pour down on us.

“Is …,” he sounded breathless, “this a n-new variation of r-rimming?” He flattened his palms against the tiles, trying to steady himself.

“Mmmm,” I murmured, “The Brian Kinney way.”

“Ah,” he breathed. “Oh … oh … ohhhhhhh ... ohhhhh Gaaaaawd.”

I had reached the region just above his ass, letting my fingers glide between the cheeks, slowly opening him to me, once again trying not to think about the sheer pleasure of joining my body to his, of driving inside of him. I took a deep breath and steadied myself, then let my tongue and lips and teeth follow the path of my fingers, laughing softly when he buckled and fisted his hands.

“B-brian,” he stammered. “B-brian – stop.”

I looked up, “You want me to stop?”

“N-no,” he took a ragged breath, “But if you’re going on like this, I’m going to come.” 

I tilted my head, “You don’t want to come?”

“I want to come with you inside of me,” he replied, looking at me over his shoulder.

I slowly stood, my hands resting on his waist, making sure he was feeling the tip of my erect penis against his back. “With me inside of you?” Slowly I moved around him so we were face to face. “You want me inside you.”

His eyes were incredibly blue, his wet hair plastered his forehead, his lips slightly open. “Y-yes,” was all he could manage, his mesmerized gaze on mine.

Time for you to learn your next lesson, Sonny Boy.

Without warning I tightened my hands on his waist and lifted him up. Grinning at the startled sound he made, I pushed him up against the wall, let myself glide to my knees and took him down with me. But before he could get accustomed to his new position I draped one of his legs over my shoulder, pressing his back firmly against the tiles.

“Oh God,” he groaned, “You’re going to break my back.”

“You’re young,” I replied mercilessly, “You’ll recover.”

The second leg followed and before he could even take a breath I was inside of him, joining us in the most intimate way. Our eyes locked, our mouths not an inch apart, we stared at each other. His pupils were dilated with pleasure.

“You like the lesson?” I asked between clenched teeth

“V-very m-much,” he stuttered, arching against me, bringing me deeper yet. His hands came up, grabbed my head, “Fuck me,” he urged, arching again.

And I did.

*

Afterwards we were both exhausted, lying on the new dark gray couch in the living-room, both still naked, we were too sated to anything but kiss and cuddle. I was sprawled on top of him, my head resting on his chest. I still had a hard time believing Brian and I could be like this. Doing nothing – not even fucking – and just be. But I was slowly getting used to it.

“Brian?”

“Hmmm?”

“That was incredible.”

I felt the chuckle rumble through his chest. “You’re welcome.”

“I think the tricks were not such a bad thing after all,” I said, grinning up at him, so he could see I was joking.

His right brow came up as a sure sign of amusement. “You don’t say?”

“Hmmm,” I nodded, loving the feel of his skin beneath my chin, “Our sex life is never going to be boring.”

Again he chuckled, “At the rate you’re demanding it from me, I’ll need all my tricks to keep you entertained.”

I didn’t miss the double meaning of the word, glad he was okay with it now, could even make joked. Brian had come a long way. I smiled at him, making sure to let a certain glimmer enter my eyes, “Are you saying I’m tiring you out?”

He gave me a mock glare, “Not in your life, Sunshine.”

“Ah,” I leaned up to him and kissed his still slightly swollen lips, loosing myself quickly in the kiss, his talented tongue instantly sneaking out, tracing the row of my front teeth, then probing for entrance I allowed him happily. There was nobody in this universe who could kiss like Brian Kinney.

I sighed, and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing myself up against him, shivering at the friction his skin caused rubbing against my once again stirring cock.

“OH MY GOD – I’m sorry … I … I – I – I … s-so s-sorry.” She held out a plastic bag, “I … uh … w-wanted to bring this over. And y-you gave me the key f-for in c-case you weren’t here.”

We scrambled away from each other, all thoughts of newly rising passion instantly forgotten at the sound of my mother’s voice – coming from close by.

Very close by.

“Shit!” My eyes widening in shock at the sight of her standing in our living-room, her face red with embarrassment, clutching a plastic bag to her chest now, and at the SIGHT we had to present her, I turned and started for the bedroom but realized Brian had no intentions to follow.

In true Brian fashion he sat up slowly, then stood and gave my mother the most brilliant of his smiles, “Hi, Jennifer. Nice to see you,” he said conversationally as if he’d just met her on the street and was not standing – buck naked – in front of her. “Next time it would be nice if you used the buzzer first.”

“I … I d-did,” she stammered, and I wasn’t sure if she was more taken aback by his nakedness which is – in my humble opinion – nerve wracking enough, or the fact that he wasn’t the least bit concerned about it.

“Shit – it’s not working,” I exclaimed, frantically searching for a new part of pants in the closet, the other still soaked in the shower. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you. The janitor came while you were at work yesterday and said it was something about,” I frowned, trying to remember what he’d said and couldn’t. “Well, something’s wrong.”

“Very helpful indeed,” Brian drawled, joining me in the bedroom, and reaching for his jeans.

“Oh God,” I moaned, not looking at him, “This is *so* the worst thing ever.”

“Relax, Sonny Boy,” he grinned at me, enjoying this way too much for my taste. “Your mother has given birth to two children. She at least has to have a clue what goes on between two people when the doors are closed. We’re living together – she walked in on us unannounced – what did she expect? That we’re living a life for everyone to intrude?”

“Three weeks,” I shot back, “We’re living together for three weeks. And already …,” I trailed off, words failing me. This was so bad, so very, very bad.

“Brighten a little,” he joked, “Now at least she doesn’t have to worry that there are dark clouds on the horizon of our relationship already. She just had the living proof that we’re still,” he grinned widely, tongue in cheek, “all over each other.”

Not the least bit amused, I pulled a shirt over my head, finally feeling presentable again. “This is my mother we’re talking about. She just found us kissing – naked,” I hissed at him.

His grin never wavered, and to my shock he pulled me close, “Jennifer,” he said loud enough for her to hear, “Why don’t you help yourself to a cup of coffee – it still should be warm. Justin and I will be with you in a minute.” And then - as if he had no worry in this world, as if my mother hadn’t just walked in on us - he kissed me.

*

Our bodies moving rhythmically to the beat of the music, I wrapped my arms around my lover’s neck and closed my eyes, losing myself in the sound, the bodies surrounding us, the smell of ecstasy and exertion.

Babylon at midnight was packed with hordes of horny queers, it was a tight fit on the dance floor, but I didn’t mind. It only meant Brian and I had to stay close – very close – to make it work. No, I didn’t mind that at all.

Letting myself sway to the music, enjoying my lover moving with me to the rhythm, I breathed deeply, while tucking my head under his chin.

It’s as if the space was designed for me especially, as if it was only created for me to fit in. I liked to think that way, pretending that this, us, had been predestined from the very beginning. But it’s still like a miracle to me.

…

I didn’t sleep the night after Brian left me at Debbie’s, my mind in too much turmoil to even think about trying. So I sat there on the bed, struggling to understand what had happened, what Brian was offering. I was sure I hadn’t misunderstood him. He’d put it all on a platter for me to see. He loved me, and the words alone let me spin into elation for hours, but I forced myself to keep my feet on the ground and do what he wanted me to. To think long and hard, if I really wanted this – if I wanted him.

Not that there was ever any real doubt, but I still took my time – three days actually – talked to Deb, to Vic, who always is a voice of reason where others get overly emotional. And finally I talked to my mom. She was shocked at first, still not quite ready to give up her dreams of Ethan and I and a happily ever after. Only after I told her what Ethan had done, she was ready to listen. In the end she was almost as speechless as I had been the night Brian had come to Deb’s house.

“He said that?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief, before she laughed. “I’m not sure why it surprises me, but it does. I knew he cared, I mean he came to you every night in the hospital-,” she stopped abruptly and gave me a guilty look.

Strangely enough I wasn’t angry with her. Maybe because I had realized that being separated from Brian for a while had been for the best, even though I thought I was going to die from the pain sometimes. But even Ethan, for all his faults, had been good for me, and so – looking back at things – I didn’t really regret what that had happened. It had – after all – led me where I was now.

Mom and I talked things out and she wanted to know if I was going to move back in with Brian. In response I stared at her dumbfounded because she had realized before I had that my decision was made already.

So the morning after dinner with mom, I stood in front of Brian’s loft. He was still not working, his new therapist had insisted that he’d take at least another week off, and so I crossed my fingers that he would be at home. 

He was. Slightly rumpled from sleep, and bleary eyed he looked at me, but was instantly alert as soon as his mind progressed who was standing in front of his door. Running a nervous hand through his hair, he asked me inside, and offered me juice and Oreos. I grinned at that, warmed by the realization that it was obviously him who kept my favorite food in stock, and declined, too nervous myself to swallow even fluids. He on the other hand busied himself by making coffee and I had to smile when I realized how hard he was trying to hide his trembling hands.

Finally he managed to start the machine, and turned to me, his eyes dark and intense. “Am I right to assume this isn’t just a friendly visit?”

I stared right back at him, “It’s not,” I confirmed. “I did what you wanted me to do. I thought long and hard.”

He nodded, licked his lips. I wondered if they were as dry as mine. “Ah,” was all he replied.

“I … uh … I’m sorry I needed so long to come to a decision,” I began.

“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “I told you to take your time.” But I could see how much the days had cost him. Despite his rumpled, sleepy look I had no problem noticing the dark circles and the fact that his ribcage was more visible than ever. It seemed that sleep and food hadn’t been his best friends either.

He laughed nervously all of a sudden, “I know that suspense is half the game these days, but could you please cut it to a minimum.” Another nervous laugh, “I’m dying here, Justin.”

And God, if I hadn’t loved him already, I would’ve fallen for him all over again. “I love you Brian,” I told him, rounding the counter, coming to stand in front of him.

I could see his breathing speeding up, could almost imagine his heart pounding against his ribs. “And?”

Mine was doing sommersaults. “And I want to be with you. It’s all I ever wanted.”

The next moment I found myself enveloped in his arms, held so tightly against him, I had problems breathing for a moment. But when he whispered my name, I let out a long satisfied sigh. This was where I belonged. For ever and ever.

…

“Hey … are you dreaming?”

My head came up with a snap, and I found myself looking into the familiar hazel eyes, “Huh?”

“I was asking you a question, and you just went on swaying to the music.” He suddenly grinned, “Or is being so close to my admittedly hot body enough to render you speechless? Because if it is, I should use it on occasion.”

Giving him a mock glare I pulled back and punched him lightly in the ribs. “So, what were you asking?”

“Do you want a drink?” he nodded towards the bar where our friends were standing. “I need to go to the bathroom for a moment.”

“Sure,” I agreed, and we parted. He disappeared in the crowd and I made my back to where the others were standing. “Hey, guys.”

“Oh look,” Ted grinned over rim of his glass, “at least one of the newlyweds managed to come up for air.”

“Well,” Ben gave me a conspiratorial wink, “there are those who need to come up for air, and those who don’t ever have trouble getting it in the first place.”

Ted glared at me first, then at him, “Why do I get the impression that now that Brian is almost likeable Ben is stepping in his footsteps.”

“He’s not,” Michael protested, kissing his boyfriend thoroughly. “You’re just jealous.”

“Why should he be jealous,” Emmett piped up from beside Ted, “He’s getting all he can handle,” he grinned mischievously, “and more.”

We all laughed, when Michael suddenly touched my arm, nodding at a point behind me, his voice suddenly concerned, “I thought you said Brian wasn’t taking any drugs.”

Confused I followed his line of vision, “What are you … who is she?” I saw Brian talking to a young woman, not a lot older than I.

“That’s his supplier. Anita,” Michael said, exchanging a look with Ben.

Feeling my stomach drop, I still managed to keep a tough front. “I’m sure they’re just talking. They know each other after all.”

“Yeah,” Emmett agreed, but it didn’t sound convinced.

“They sure talk long for just saying hello,” Ted commented, while I saw something changing hands between Brian and Anita.

No, please, please, no, I prayed silently. If he was starting to take drugs again what would be next. Then I kicked myself for even thinking that way, for doubting him. Brian had changed, he wouldn’t do something like that. But the nagging little voice in my mind remained.

I saw them laugh for a moment, before Brian obviously said goodbye and a second later joined us at the bar. “Did you order me a drink?” he asked, slipping an arm around my waist, sounding relaxed in a way I had never heard him before.

Ted turned to get him something non-alcoholic from the bar, when Brian suddenly kissed me without warning. When he pulled back I was certain I had a more than slightly dazed look in my eyes. “W-what was that for?” I asked.

“Did I tell you lately that I love you?” he said, taking the glass from Ted, then kissed me again just for good measure.

“Oh God, this is too much,” Ted groaned, holding his head in his hands. Emmett put an arm around his shoulder and squeezed.

Michael, still not convinced Brian’s encounter with Anita had been harmless, said, “Brian, did you take anything?”

Brian took a sip from his drink, then laughed, “What? Why should I …” he became serious, looked down at me for a moment, and when I smiled, he did, too. Keeping his eyes on mine, he replied, “Because of Anita? No, you know I don’t take drugs anymore.”

“So what did you two talk about?” Michael queried. 

“She needed to talk to me about some pills I bought from her a few weeks ago.” My eyes perked up, and his smile widened, “It seems that one of her suppliers had a minor accident in his kitchen causing the pills to turn out too strong. Unfortunately they were already sold before they realized it. She wanted to know if I had any problems with it.”

I felt my heart skip a beat when his eyes pierced into mine, elations spreading through my whole body, “You mean…?” I asked breathlessly.

He grinned, “It seems so, Sunshine.”

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed, hugging him hard, “Oh my God, Brian.”

I heard him laugh and did the same, feeling a huge weight lifting from our shoulders.

“What?”

“What happened?”

“What’s the matter with you two?”

We heard the questions of our friends in the back, but did our best to ignore them. Finally Michael separated us by force, “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

Brian sniffled slightly, the emotions running high in him. I was glad my face was buried in his chest, because my tears of relief were running freely, and I simply couldn’t let go of him.

“Mikey,” he said, putting one hand on his friend’s shoulder, “It means that I probably never tried to kill myself. I took the E that night. It was found in my bloodstream after all, causing my circulation to go all wacky. It was an accident – nothing more.”

“What?”

Rising my head from Brian’s chest, I saw Michael staring at him disbelievingly for a moment before he closed his arms around us both in a bear hug, then sunk into Ben’s arms when his boyfriend pried him lose giving Brian and me an apologetic look.

I gazed up at my lover. “I’m glad. I’m so very glad.”

He kissed me lightly, “Me, too, Sonny Boy, me too.”

“What did she give you?” I asked. And when he raised a brow, I added, “I saw you – just before.”

“Oh,” he grinned, pulled something from his pocket, “You mean that?” He showed it to me, and I grinned, too.

“She gave you back the money?”

“Uh-huh. She might be a dealer, but she’s got class,” he told me, puling me in his arms. “You care to dance?”

“Most certainly, sir,” I joked and he pulled me towards the center of the club.

“You know we’re going to have an anniversary soon,” I remarked casually, while we were swaying to the beat.

Again, his right brow rose, “An anniversary?”

“Tomorrow it’s four weeks that we’re officially back together.”

He chuckled, “We’re going to lose track with all the anniversaries you’ll undoubtedly want to celebrate. Are you going to insist on flowers and a picnic?”

I gave him a mischievous grin, “We never discussed rules”

He grinned back. “We don’t need rules, Sunshine.”

It was turn to raise a brow, “No?”

“No,” he growled in my ear, the sound sending shivers trough my body. “We’ve got each other.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, pressing myself closer. “That’s so much better than rules,” I agreed, closing my eyes and resting my ear over his steadily beating heart. It was mine – and nothing else mattered.


End file.
